Inverted Reflections
by HugAZombie
Summary: Unbeta'd. Slight AU! '"What do you want from me Mikoto Uchiha?" Her smile is a soft and sad one. "I want you to save my son."' INDEFINITE HAITUS
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Naruto, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Kishimoto. _

_**Pairings: **__SasuNaruSasu mainly_

_**Notes: **__Unbeta'd. This story I have playing with for a while, but haven't written because the Naruto-world confuses me. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but I am never sure what to put in and what not to put in – especially technology-wise. But here I have. It is an AU! Split off after Sasuke leaves, and I will say – just to cover myself from any mistakes – that the 'normal' Naruto verse is a little AU!_

_This will have an even more AU world which Naruto will flick between. I can't wait to introduce this alternative dimension. I really can't. Of course, Sasuke and everyone will act differently in the other dimension as certain things have not happened and other things have. _

_Wow that was vague. Anyway, I hope you like it. Even if Sai seems a bit off :/ How annoying aha_

/\/\

**Chapter one**

_Chains. They rattle on his wrists, the bindings of his sins. Delirious. Choking. He tries to scream but he is gagged, heavy, thick something in his mouth, stuffing down his throat. Suffocating on the threads of life. _

_Glittering colours swirl around him as he struggles. Disorientated. How did he get here? When? Who? _

_Dying. Always dying. _

Naruto's eyes fly open as his lungs scream for air. Chest heaving, hair damp with dream-induced sweat and a pulsing heartbeat, rapid as a rabbits in a raging panic. His stomach swirls sickeningly; he feels queasy, sickened with a strange motion sickness. His mouth is dry.

He struggles upright; gazing around his meagre room with bleary eyes and shakes his head. His breath is not to desperate now, his heart has steadied in his chest and no longer is it trying to burst from his ribcage. And he is glad; he had been generally worried his heart may just achieve what it so desperately wanted to do. Kyuubi can fix many things but even Naruto, one for at least attempting to make the impossible possible, believes that is a bit of a stretch.

Eighteen years Naruto has been alive – eighteen years of nightmares plaguing him, evening beasts he cannot defeat. But recently, these last few months they have altered. No longer are they memories of his youth twisted with the darkness of his own psyche. They are flashes, psychotic flashes of images and moments in time that have never existed. He sees his parents, he sees Sasuke smile, he sees Sasuke's parents, his brother – hell, he has seen many of the Uchiha Clan – and, perhaps best of all, aside from the image of his parents, is that Naruto has seen his own face, whisker-free. He has seen things beautiful in their impossibility, they were dreams he ached for.

But recently the content of the dreams has shifted, and Naruto is no longer seeing such beautiful things as family and love, but an impending darkness encroaching upon each image he is presented with, a black harbinger of pain and misery. And for the past week, his own anticlimactic death has been playing on a loop in his mind.

He drowns. Chained and gagged like a prisoner of war, he is always drowning. Thrown to the bottom of a lake somewhere, Naruto sinks to the sandy bed, struggling to breath, to move, to escape and yet he can do nothing. He doesn't have the Kyuubi in this dream plane, he has none of that demonic chakra to aid him, to help him bust free of the restraints that drown him.

If he didn't panic as much, the glittering lights that swim in and out of his line of vision would almost be pretty...

Naruto shakes his head, drawing himself out of the sight of his own body suspended uselessly in a body of cool water, eyes still open but dull, blonde hair swaying around his head like an undeserved halo. It is disturbing to witness one's own death, watching like an audience and yet feeling the effect upon your body.

The blond coughs before smacking his lips together in an effort to wet his mouth. He kicks the smothering covers away from him; his legs are a little shaky as he stands, a small bit of distaste at his weakness in the face of a dream is hard to ignore and worse to taste.

The short walk to the kitchen allows him to regain perfect control over his legs. He leans against the side, gulping down water like a dying man, ignoring the trickle of liquid own the side of his mouth. He slams the glass back onto the side, harder then he first intended. The sound falls on the silent flat like a cloak in the dust. Dusk is blinking over the horizon, Naruto can tell from the window, signalling a new day.

Naruto absently wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, blue eyes blink languidly now that the remaining hold of the dream had fully ebbed from his body. He leans forward, resting on his forearms, eyes closed for just a moment. He isn't looking forward to today. He found waking up these days a little awkward, and you would too if you had to face your own failure every day.

Sasuke Uchiha. He hadn't lost his mysterious appeal over the years; in fact, the confirmation that the man was genuinely dangerous had only heightened it. He came back two years ago after his merry little teenage angst session of treason and murder. Naruto had failed on his promise, and Sasuke had come back on his own and not even acknowledged Naruto when the blond appeared at the trial.

Naruto meant nothing to him anymore.

Naruto fears he never had.

Two years on, Sasuke was proving his worth to the village, gaining grudging respect and slow trust from the elders, who can still see the value in having an Uchiha around. But not Naruto. He had spent so long chasing after Sasuke, trying to understand him and his goals, and he can't help but find it odd that Sasuke should just come back so easily.

He hated Konoha.

He hated all of us, Naruto thinks. Why come back like nothing happened? Perhaps Naruto is simply too suspicious but even in the face of Sasuke, the person he had once treasured above all others, he cannot shake the feeling that Sasuke is not finished, that he has more plans for this village.

The Elders may have forgotten his rampage and his treachery in favour for their own gain, but Sasuke is not that kind of man. Sasuke will not have forgotten the trespasses against him so easily, nor will he have forgiven such wrongs – whatever wrongs they may have been.

Even Tsunade, intelligent Tsunade chosen to rule this village for a reason, seems to have fallen under the spell Sasuke has woven with his placidity. Naruto doesn't understand Sasuke, because Sasuke is in a league all of his own. No one can understand him, not the horrors he has been through nor how everything he has done, because the only person who had been through those horrors is Sasuke. Naruto will never claim to understand his fellow Chuunin again.

He cannot know what went on when Sasuke disappeared, nor what Oochimaru had told him. He can never discern the lies from the truth, or assuage any remaining rage Sasuke may be nursing beneath that indifferent mask he calls a face.

All he knows is when Sasuke does act (_if_ he does, because Naruto is not completely unforgiving, and is willing to believe that there is a chance that Sasuke is genuine) it will be him and only him to battle against the last Uchiha. That is one tradition Naruto is not willing to break. He has fought Sasuke every step of the way, even if these last two years they have only spoken under duress. If Sasuke is to snap, Naruto will request to carry out the execution himself.

He is strong enough to do that now. He will sacrifice Sasuke for the village. He will never again waste time in trying to change the stubborn bastard's mind.

Naruto straightens, rubbing a hand down his face. What a depressing train of thought to haunt a beautiful morning. He rolls his shoulders as he stretches his arms above his head, before turning his back on the weak warmth of the morning sun to head towards the shower.

Fifteen minutes later and Naruto is fit to face the day. He had put his orange jumpsuit to rest a few years back, on the day he failed once again to return Sasuke to his home. That had been two years ago, he had hung it up, still torn from the last fight with Sasuke on a hanger and left it in his wardrobe. It still hangs there, a reminder of the past, a reminder to him that some promises have to be broken lest you risk your own wellbeing.

He pulled on some comfy black trousers and an orange sleeveless shirt. He had abandoned the jumpsuit, but the colour remained in abundance in his wardrobe. What could he say? He just looks amazing in the colour. He doesn't bother with his hair, leaving to dry naturally as he shoves his feet into some sandals and is out the door.

It is early, too early for old man Teuchi to have opened up shop, and Naruto, with a glance down to his stomach, is starting to regret having left his home so eagerly. He rubs at his nose absently as he wanders the streets – silence prevails, shadows splayed across the buildings in the rising sun. Naruto clicks his knuckles, blue eyes following the fractured skyline, seeing a wheeling bird before it disappears beyond the village limits into the great backyard of the world.

How small Konoha truly is.

Philosophical thought has never come easy to Naruto; it has been something he has had to work hard at. He is not stupid, he doesn't think, a bit ditzy and often acts before any thought comes into the equation, but ultimately not stupid. And yet here he is, wandering the lightening streets of his home, streets in which practically every corner hides a memory he'd rather forget, pondering the size of such a village in comparison to the world out there.

So many lives exist here, within the walls of this place – so many horrors have taken place, so many children born and so many elderly died. Many have not seen past the gates of this village, and they never will.

But Naruto has seen so much – he has seen the cruelty in people, and he has also seen the flickering light of hope illuminate a soul. He has seen people die, he has seen unwavering loyalty. He has seen what the world can do to the people not strong enough to uphold it, and what it has done to those who are strong enough but are slowly crumbling beneath the weight.

It sickens him and enlightens him. Naruto has lived as many a thing – a monster under the bed to be feared; the cretin to be hated; a friend to be protected; a son to be loved; a clown to be laughed at; a student to be taught; a killer to be punished and yet he has become nothing. None of these lives have created one singular person. He finds he still is all those different people, each and every personality pushing and pulling within until some nights he feels he cannot take it anymore.

But he is just one person in hundreds upon hundreds in the world, just one measly problem with issues, just the same as everyone else. What makes him so special? What makes this village, his home, so special?

Nothing, really. Just one in a million. Odd how a place he would do anything for is really so inconsequential. Should Konoha be destroyed, life would go on and only those who knew of it would mourn. Soon the memory would be lost to the ages.

Naruto sniffs, squinting his eyes to slits as he glares upon the sun. It's too early for depressing thoughts, he thinks. It makes his brain hurt. The art of philosophical doubt is ever painful to him. Deep introspective thought has never been Naruto's forte.

He passes by a darkened shop; the windows over the top are glowing, signifying life within. He peers into the glass of the shop window, absently gazing over the clothes that hang there before catching a glimpse of something just to the right of him in his reflection. He spins around, eyes darting around the area, trying to spot whoever it was.

But the space is empty. He straightens with a frown, stepping forward once, twice. He glances back at the window and sees nothing but a black, shadowed glass. Naruto scratches his head, glancing around him, turning on the spot to take in the hushed streets.

The glare he spares the window once more is a cautious one, confused and annoyed.

"Yo, Fox-face, what did that window ever do to you?"

Naruto turns around, still in his semi-crouched position from where he had been peering and grinned as he straightens. "Dog-boy," he says, clapping Kiba around the wrist as the brunette did the same. Akamaru, a beast of a dog, thumps his bottom down as his tongue lolls out of his mouth in a relaxed doggy contentment. "What you doing about?"

Kiba shrugs. "Akamaru was restless for some reason." He pats the dog on his head, scratching the dogs' ears. "I thought I'd take him for a walk." Naruto and Kiba start to move away from the clothes shop, Akamaru trotting between them. "Why are you down here so early?"

It is Naruto's turn to shrug. "Nightmares," he answers simply, glancing down at his feet in a moment of insecurity before levelling a gaze at his friend. "Nothing too bad, not like a used to get but enough to... _affect_ me."

"And what did you dream of?" Kiba's gaze is penetrating – most people forgot that amidst the childish delight and immaturity, Kiba really is quite perceptive at times. Even Naruto forgets such a fact, for it doesn't appear often – just when you need it the most. Then Kiba flips a one-eighty and your back to toilet humour, wicked pranks and mooning after Hinata, who still hasn't picked up on Kiba's almost painful crush.

Naruto clears his throat, gazing off into the distance. "I was... drowning," he starts, rubbing his nose absently. "I was chained and gagged and drowning. It's never pleasant to witness your own death." Naruto chuckles weakly before the expression falls from his face and he shrugs. "I dunno, like I said it's not the worst I've had."

He turns to Kiba and grins. "But that shit is depressing, it's a new day, my friend and that means..."

Kiba returns the smile just as brightly. "New pranks."

"Dude, will we ever grow up?"

Kiba laughs. "Man, I really hope not." Naruto laughs with him, shaking his head and clapping an arm around his shoulder, a happy Akamaru prancing ahead of them, his tail swatting back and forth.

/\/\

The sun reaches its peak at noon, smiling upon the bare-backed image of a sweating Naruto. He and Kiba had wandered around for hours discussing and planning like children, the wicked glint of mischief flickering in their eyes, an immature glee lighting up their faces. At a more reasonable hour, they ventured to Ichiraku's for ramen-y goodness.

They had parted ways not long after that, promising to meet up later in the evening with the others, just for a little get together to catch up. Everyone was busy with partners and duties that catch-up time had been scarce for the lot of them. They had all reached Chuunin level at least, and they were being deployed in various assignments at different times. Tonight would be one of a few when everyone would be around – Kiba said he would get word around to meet at Naruto's whilst on a few errands for his mother.

That had been two hours or so ago. Since that departure, Naruto had wandered around and ended up in the third training ground – his second home. This was a favourite haunt for him, one of few places that held good memories for him. It had been the second time Naruto had felt proud of himself for achieving something, even if it hadn't been specifically him who had allowed them to pass Kakashi's test. This was when Team Seven had truly been born, where a chapter of his miserable past had closed and given way to something new, something that would become frightening and emotional and yet brilliant and exciting despite of that.

He hadn't thought to bring any weapons with him, of course, nor could did he want to practise a jutsu without an opponent to test them on. So he settled for working on the more physical, hand-to-hand combat. He rarely has use for such a combat method, preferring the quick and more damaging power of jutsu's but it helps to keep him fit. A good work out until he burns out is sometimes just what the doctor ordered, even if it leaves him in achy pain the next morning.

Naruto drops his arms from his defensive position and rolls his shoulders instead. His chest is heaving from the jumping and ducking and swerving of the imagined enemy. His legs feel a little like jelly and his skin has a sheen of sweat and dust that is vaguely uncomfortable.

He blows air from his lips and swallows thickly, hands on his knees before he straightens, running a hand through his damp hair. He wipes down his mouth before jumping a little to kick in a cooling down routine, loose, light exercises like he had been taught.

He rolls his shoulders again before the little jumps turn into a slow jog around the training ground, a steady pace pulling protests from his burning limbs. It is when Naruto starts his stretching that he notices the eerie sensation of being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing to attention and Naruto pauses, allowing his arms to fall to his sides.

He glances around the training ground curiously. He had chosen one of the quieter areas, not often frequented by others. It was too far deep into the wooded area, into a smallish clearing he discovered a few years ago when he went on a random amble.

Naruto's eyes searched the trees and their shadows for the source of the uncomfortable feeling, skimming the treetops, turning on the spot before he sees it – _him_.

Sasuke Uchiha.

Naruto and he just gaze at each other, Naruto standing a little perplexed on the ground and Sasuke seated quite comfortably in a tree, eyes as dark and unreadable as ever. This is perhaps one of the first times they have been alone together, except for the awkward silences left when Sakura (in a bid to salvage their friendship – a loose term Naruto wishes he could equate their bond to, but the pessimistic side not quite letting him anymore) decides she needed the toilet or saw someone she needed to discuss something with.

Naruto drops his gaze and stares elsewhere before looking back up at Sasuke, figuring he must've really been lost in his exercise to not have recognised the chakra. "Hello," he says neutrally. "Any reason you're here?"

At this Sasuke seems to jerk out of whatever hypnosis he had been under and simply redirects his gaze to the horizon, effectively ignoring Naruto's presence. Naruto grits his teeth, the cold brush off something he has never quite gotten used to.

Sasuke always used to react to him – in fury, in contempt, in _something_. Everyone else he would ignore, he could do it with ease. But never Naruto, never before – he would always have a reply, a smirk, a glare. But that changed.

It had been a long time since any emotion from the Uchiha had been aimed at the blond. Not fury, not contempt – nothing.

He has somehow become the invisible man, and it cut him deeper than Naruto would ever admit. It irritated old wounds, tearing the barely scabs and infecting them with a bitter tasting poison.

To Naruto, the confirmation of his existence came from the reaction he could get from people, be it negative or not. But Sasuke now is denying him that. Naruto shouldn't need this, he knows. The village and his friends recognize his existence; he shouldn't _need_ this acknowledgement from the Uchiha to validate himself, to anchor himself in reality.

But somewhere, deep down, somewhere primal and needy, he does. And he fears that the Uchiha knows it.

God, it _aches_. Why must old wounds continue to pain you?

Naruto shakes his head, marching across the clearing to collect his abandoned shirt and shoves a corner into the back of his trousers. He allows his gaze to flick back to the motionless figure in the tree, still stoutly ignoring his presence. And he nods his head, setting his jaw.

"Bastard," he whispers, the old insult-come-endearment tumbling from his lips almost silently. He shakes his head again, dislodging the fondness attached to the word, an affection there is no point in nursing. The bastard from his past is gone, and the creature wearing that face is someone different, someone undeserving.

And not for the first time Naruto is the one to walk away from a situation with Sasuke, giving him free reign of the area the Uchiha has momentarily claimed as his own to find another.

_Goodbye Sasuke. _

It is not the first time Naruto has bid the memory of twelve year old Sasuke farewell, and it would not be the last.

/\/\

"Come in, it's open," Naruto calls from his bedroom after hearing a fist pound on the door of his flat. He listens as the door swings and collides with the wall and the loud voice of his partner-in-crime discussing something (a decidedly one sided conversation, Naruto suspects with a grin when he hears Shino's short reply) rather loudly.

Naruto gets up from where he had been sitting on the floor, sorting through a few things he has been neglecting – a shoebox of things, memorabilia that he shouldn't really keep. This had, among other things, one of the bells from that first exercise as Team Seven (this had involved a lot of sneaking and slyness and a promise to report his incompetent teaching to Iruka to get that bell – the perverted lazy-arse didn't want to replace it), one or two of Haku's needles (cleaned of blood of course) in memoriam of a great man who Naruto respected and lastly, Sasuke's old head protector. He had been planning to give it back to him after the trial, but Sasuke had blanked him and never given him the chance. And so he kept it, rather pathetically, in this box.

How he despises the sight of it.

It isn't healthy for him to keep clutching to a twelve-year-old's ideal of someone who proved himself to be no better than the villages that turned away when Naruto was bullied.

Naruto snorts to himself and throws the worn protector into the box. Geez, abandonment issues or what?

"Hey Fox-face, you wanking in there or something?" Naruto jumps at the sound of Kiba's voice just outside his door, unprepared for when his friends' body wedged itself in the doorway. He had momentarily forgotten Shino and he had arrived. He quickly slides the box under his bed but Kiba had already seen.

Luckily, the brunette is the best kind of pal, and simply ignores it.

"Come on, everyone will be turning up soon," the brunette pushes away from the door frame. "I am so glad you _weren't_ wanking; I got enough of an eyeful last time."

"You didn't knock! That was entirely your own fault!" Naruto says with a heated glare. "Besides we all know you're hiding latent gay tendencies, I mean, come on. You hang around with me; no one can resist my amazing charm and awesome good looks." His smile is blinding and Kiba shoves him playfully.

"Yeah sure, that's why Sakura kept rejecting you."

Naruto chuckles as they step into the living room where Shino is laying out some food and alcohol Kiba had brought along with him. "She was simply intimidated by my amazingness," Naruto explains cheerfully as he crosses the room to grab a couple of glasses from the kitchen.

"Who was intimidated by what?" Sakura has just arrived, with the rustling of more bags a few clinks of bottles.

"Hinata by the sheer size of Kiba's cock," Naruto grins cheekily, coming out of the kitchen to greet Ino and Sakura, and place the glasses on the table.

The blonde female snorts her disbelief. "In his dreams, maybe."

Kiba growls. "I'll have you know, I am very well-endowed, I can show you –"

"Kiba," the room falls a little quieter under Shino's voice. "We are not drunk enough for indecent exposure to be deemed a _good_ thing to do."

"Who needs to be drunk?" Naruto retorts, high-fiving the manically grinning Kiba boyishly and earning a punch from Sakura.

"What was that for?"

"Channelling Kakashi," she explains with a light smile. "And not giving me a hug." Naruto chuckles and envelops the girl in a bone-crushing embrace. He remembers a time when he would've killed to have this easy friendship with Sakura – when stroking her hair when she is tired, or hugging her, or even a light kiss on the cheek was normal and easy. Of course, back then he had wanted it in a completely different context.

"Don't forget me Mister," Ino's voice cuts in through the thought, shoving Sakura away and hugging the other blond. "You can't hog him all to yourself Billboard, you had your chance," she teases. Naruto laughs, throwing his arms around the shoulders of both girls.

"Ladies, please, there is plenty enough of me to go round."

Hinata, Neji and Lee are next to arrive, soon followed by Shikamaru and Choji and last but not least Tenten and Sai straggle in thirty or so minutes later, having bumped into each other on the way.

The crowd group together around the small table, two bottles of sake already having been opened and shared freely amongst them. Naruto himself is feeling a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, having dipped into his own private stash (Tsunade had felt the need to buy him a good supply for his eighteenth birthday and then gave him some more for the sheer hell of it, saying that if he ever needed to talk about anything, to just bring a bottle and come over. That had been an _odd_ day and Naruto remembers vaguely wondering if he was dying because surely only an event like that would make Tsunade part with her sake).

A rambunctious laughter bursts into the room and Lee is on his feet, challenging Kiba to some contest of strength or youth.

"...And the looser should have to run around the village on his hands, doing back flips every third step!"

Naruto drops down on the floor beside the sofa and Sakura's legs. "You have been keeping him off the sake, haven't you?"

"Of course," she replies. "You think I could put up with him tonight if I hadn't? I'll be taking up your bed if even a drop passes his lips."

Naruto quirks an eyebrow skyward; his head falls back to meet the cushion so he can look up at his friend. "My bed? Where would I sleep?"

"The sofa," she shrugs before he glares down at him dangerously. "Surely a lovely gentleman like you wouldn't allow a female guest to sleep on your sofa, would you, Naruto?"

"No, Sakura." He all but whimpers. Sakura's rage, even when joking, is not something to mess with.

"Because that is bad hosting, isn't it, Naruto?"

Naruto nods with a swallow. "Yes, Sakura."

"And you're not a bad host are you, Naruto?"

Naruto wonders if this is a trick question. "No, Sakura?" She grins and he is off the hook.

"Dude, you are so whipped and you're not even dating the broad."

Naruto's head snaps forward and his gaze zeroes in on Kiba. His grin turns feral. "Did you just refer to Sakura in a derogatory way, Kiba, old buddy old pal? _I_ think you did. Naughty Kiba." Naruto lightly touches Sakura's leg to get her attention. "Kiba just called you a _broad_, and he also mentioned something about your breasts or lack thereof..."

"He _what_?"

"_Naruto, you shit!"_

The conversation continues as Kiba darts out of the flat and an enraged Sakura, a pink blur of death, races after him.

Naruto chuckles. "All in a day's work." He settles more comfortably in his place, the bottle of sake in-between his legs. "So Shika, how are things going with you?" Considering he has Ino curled around him, Naruto feels things must be going very well for the lazy ninja, but he feels compelled to ask nonetheless.

/\/\

As the night begins to wind down, Naruto is pulled aside by Sai, who is leaning against the window sill. Sai has changed so much in the four years he has been here, only recently rediscovering his emotions and the importance of friends, he has his moments of instability but he has progressed so much. Not all of his smiles are that fake beam that grates on Naruto's nerves so much, mainly because he can see a reflection of self within it.

He is still insensitive, not always getting whey people may be upset about something – but he is getting there, steadily progressing into a person rather than the robot he had been.

"You don't fool us," he says in a low baritone, glancing over the party and noticing everyone, Kiba and Sakura in particular, is paying half attention to the conversation and half on the separate pair. "You forget who you are entertaining, Naruto: Sakura, who is closest to you; Kiba, who knows more than he lets on; the Hyuuga's who see more than you know; Shikamaru, the most observant of us all; even me. I can spot a fake smile a mile off as I am sure you can. We all know things aren't right with you." Thos dark eyes are fixated on a point some distance away.

"You have taught me things Naruto – everyone has, but you most of all – about loyalty and friendship. The old me wouldn't have cared less if the smile you wore was fake or true, but that is changing. You made that change by being yourself. Do not make me regret that change by crawling inside your mind because that only reinforces my training that emotion is worthless." That being said, perhaps the most profound thing Naruto has ever heard Sai say, the dark haired boy moves away, back to rejoin the group.

Naruto gazes at them all. Shikamaru and Ino are still entwined, Ino having a girly chat with Sakura and Hinata and Shikamaru talking lowly with Choji, smiling lightly at his friend. Tenten and Lee are having an arm wrestle, cheered on by Kiba with Shino and Neji watching with a faint air of amusement. Sai draws the Hyuuga into conversation, his eyes carefully avoiding glancing back at Naruto, although he guesses he is the subject of that little chat if the way Neji inclines his head toward him just slightly is any indicator.

Naruto sighs, smiling lightly at them all. From Kiba's corner a triumphant Tenten laughs as Lee declares his punishment for not loosing is to do hundred and thirty push-ups with one hand and one foot after commending Tenten on her show of "Youthful exuberance."

He looks back to the window, his reflection smiling back at him before he notices something out of the corner of his eye.

It is those eyes again, those dark, solemn eyes that seems to be searching his soul. He leans a little closer and the eyes fade, as if moving backward, and still gazing at him intently. Those eyes have a purpose this time.

_Follow me._

The sounds of his flat fade into a disturbing nothing as that voice; a pretty voice of liquid silver fills his head.

_I do not have long in this realm and my powers are limited. Come to me, Naruto. _

The blond steps away from the window, perplexed and uneasy.

_Please. It can only be you..._

_Follow me, child. Follow me; there are people who need you. _

"Guys?" he is speaking before he even realises the words are falling from his lips. He tears his eyes away from the glass. "I'm just going to go out for a moment." He smiles at the, best he can, saluting a little at them. "You can crash here if you like, I don't mind. No breaking things please – yes, Kiba that _was_ directed at you – and I'll be back in a minute."

He doesn't leave enough time for questions, just jogs towards the door of his home and disappears into the dark of the hallway, leaving a group of confused friends to muse his sudden exit.

All gazes fall on Sai, the last to speak with the blond. The dark haired man shrugs. "Don't look at me, I just told him what you were all thinking."

"Oh well," Kiba says, tearing his eyes from the door and swallowing his worry with a grin. "We got ourselves a free house..."

/\/\

The voice hums her approval and thanks. Naruto doesn't recognise this voice, neither does the Kyuubi. It's beautiful in an almost haunting way, smooth as velvet. Naruto paces the streets, following the commands of the strange voice, knowing that this is a dangerous venture and yet compelled by his curiosity to continue.

He knows curiosity killed the cat, but a cat has nine lives – Naruto might not hat that saver, but he can sure as hell kick arse.

Besides it provided a distraction of what Sai had said to him. Sai's disappointment hurt him, not just because he hates to be a disappointment, but because he knows Sai sees parallels between him and his dead friend Shin. Is disappointment in Naruto equal to a disappointment in Shin? Or is Naruto simply being egotistical and stupid? Neither is an option Naruto likes.

The blond hasn't been paying attention to where his feet have been taking him, where the voice has lead him and so when he stops, Naruto blinks and gazes around him. The edge of the old Uchiha compound stares at him, a large defensive gate glaring down at him.

He hesitates at the gates that separate the world of the dead compound and the reality of the life thrumming beyond its grasp. In truth the places frightens him. It has a heavy atmosphere; death still clings to the air, making it stifling. The ghosts of the dead haunt here, not visible, perhaps not even real, but still imprinted upon the buildings and the streets of this lonely place.

_Come, Naruto, none can hurt you here. There is nothing left but one broken soul._

Yeah, Naruto thinks, a broken soul that won't hesitate to kill an intruder upon the memories of his family.

_No harm shall come to you. The boy sleeps._

Naruto nods to himself and steps over that invisible boundary that keeps him from approaching the gates. He feels no different, he notes, no chill or sense of foreboding. Not really. But the weight of the air is there, the weight that often lingers at the scene of a crime as horrifying and bloodied as this.

It doesn't surprise him that the gates are opened so easily. Only Sasuke still resides here, alone amongst million empty homes and a thousand memories. He wouldn't be so bitter, Naruto contemplates, if he didn't insist on living here. All this space and just one person, it isn't right.

It would have driven Naruto insane a long time ago. The silence of this place is the silence of the grave, and Naruto has to suppress a shiver as he follows the instructions of the voice in his head. He moves with ease, creeping past the house he knows to be Sasuke's, pausing just for a moment outside of it. It is a beautiful home, really. Even in the darkness of this night, the moon hidden by the jealous clouds, it is beautiful.

Naruto lowers his eyes and moves on without another glance. It's horrible, to walk down these chilled streets, not knowing if the last breaths of an Uchiha were taken where he treads. He feels queasy pacing down these streets. He would love to run, to jump the rooftops, but that feels disrespected to the lives lost.

He can't clamber over their homes nor run from their deaths. That would be like ignoring it ever happened, and that would be akin to forgetting them.

And no one should ever be forgotten.

When Naruto finally stops he is on the outskirts, a smallish training ground where he assumes the clan had trained. To the far North West there is a huge body of water, not a lake – too small for that, more of a large pond. And by that he can see a figure, bathed in darkness.

_Come closer, Naruto. _

Naruto doesn't think twice about approaching the source of the mysterious voice.

"Aren't you beautiful," the woman says, her face hidden by the hooded cloak she wears. "Your mother must be proud." There is a fondness in her tone, the same fondness he had heard himself use when he spoke of Sakura or Kiba, or anyone of his friends.

"My mothers' dead," he answers her. Not bitterly, no, not even sadly. You cannot miss what you never had, not truly. You can wish you had it, and feel loneliness and sadness at that, but not at the actual loss.

The figure nods her head. "Yes, here she is."

Naruto rubs his eyes. "Look, what am I doing here? Who are you?"

Naruto can feel the smile on her face as her hands come up to pull her head free of the fabric, dark hair falling around her face, ivory white skin like porcelain and those dark eyes that had followed him in reflections. Naruto steps back; he knows this woman. He has seen her, seen her with her family in the depths of his dreams; seen her smile and laugh; seen her lose herself in the domestic pleasures of a family life.

"You're dead," he says, his voice wavering. "He found you dead. We know that. We all know that." His voice is nothing more than a whisper, a broken whisper of confusion.

"In this world, I am dead. But there is not only just one world." Her gaze is soft as she looks upon him. "And some dreams are not just dreams, Naruto."

"You're dead." He is a broken record.

"So are you. In my world."

Naruto takes a step back, his mouth his dry and his brain hurting from the bewilderment of having a solid looking ghost of Sasuke's past here in front of him, _talking_ to him. "What do you want from me Mikoto Uchiha?"

Her smile is a soft and sad one. "I want you to save my son."

/\/\

_Whatcha think? Sorry Naruto seems a little off as well, but you know. I think I kept his character in there as well, when he is not alone. I'm not sure..._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Naruto, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Kishimoto. _

_**Pairings: **__SasuNaruSasu mainly GaaNaru SakuLee KakaIru ShikaIno KibaHina_

_**Notes: **__Right well, I'm sorry if Naruto comes across as a little OOC throughout this story, but I do have my reasons. He is darker than you could come to expect, I think, but I can't blame him when you look at the facts. He has been hated his whole life for something that was beyond his control, been abandoned and neglected. Sakura the girl he 'loved' was a bitch to him really, even if she didn't mean to be, his supposed best friend/best rival just ran off and ditched him, just increasing hsi fear of abandonment, and then nearly killed him simply because Naruto, a little misguidedly I think but still, tried to 'save' him._

_There is only so much a guy can take before he loses that optimism. But I don't think I have changed him that much. He still is a joker with friends. Hmm... I'll put OOC as a warning for all characters just in case. _

_I kinda like writing angsty Naruto bless him. He has a lot to angst over. _

_Anyways, enjoy._

/\/\

**Chapter two**

"Save your son?" he repeats a little dumbly, his laugh is humourless and cold. "Your son doesn't need my help." He spits the words, the bitterness poison on his tongue. In the back of his mind he is ashamed to speak to the Uchiha matriarch like this.

Fuck, he really is going insane. He is talking to a _dead_ woman in Sasuke's eerie little ghost town and feeling bad for being so bitter toward her. There is fury in the thought, fury and confusion and annoyance.

But she just smiles that sad little smile, horribly kind as if she knows, as if she _understands_. He wants to tear it off her face, to let go all his frustrations on this image of Uchiha perfection.

He doesn't want her understanding. He wants her _gone_. He wants her to disappear so he can wallow in this bout of self-loathing in peace before he is up to face the day once more and can lose himself in friends and missions and smile, and truly mean it.

"Maybe by saving one, you can save both." Her words seem worldly and wise, but Naruto has never wanted worldly and wise words. They are not what he searches for in friends and comfort. He sneers at her, an ugly expression Naruto loathes and yet cannot hold back.

"Itachi is beyond any saving grace I could offer, Mrs. Uchiha." Despite this being a dream or a hallucination, whatever it really is, calling the woman by her given name is impolite. He never knew her in life, to address her memory like that would be disrespectful and Naruto has learnt to be mindful of the dead. "He's dead." His voice is lowered now, as if to soften the blow against her.

Did she see Itachi coming? Did she know it was her eldest that murdered her in the dead of the night? Does she know her youngest son has followed in his footsteps and killed also?

Does she wonder where she went wrong?

He wants to tell her, he finds he _wants_ to hurt her in some way. A search of his soul and mind would provide an explanation but he doesn't want to look, afraid of what he might find. Something black and pulsing and ugly, he thinks, a darkness he has always had but barely just begun to accept.

"I made no mention of Itachi," she says softly, those dark orbs piercing his soul, reaching into him and seeking something, something Naruto cannot name or even guess at. "You are confused and even more broken than he and I ever suspected."

"What?" he feels a little insulted at her comment, perhaps because it makes him sound weaker than he is, but more because he knows there is a semblance of truth. "Who?"

Her eyes study his face with sadness in her gaze and his question goes unanswered. "And yet you are the best one for the job. Each place is unique; no one else has gone through what you have. Similar events have occurred, yes, but never the exact same.

"Your past is the hardest of all out there. Only you can do this."

Naruto stares at her, shaking his head. He presses the heel of his palm into his forehead. "What is going on?" It's barely a whisper, and yet it carries on the wind. "What do you want?"

"I have told you what I want, Naruto."

Naruto laughs and it is a shattered thing. Mikoto closes her eyes against the sound. No child should laugh in such a way. "I tried," Naruto says quietly, he sniffs distractedly, avoiding her dark gaze. "I tried to save him once. He never needed it. He is strong enough to save himself." He swallows thickly.

"I want to wake up now, Mrs. Uchiha. Let me wake up."

"You are awake, Naruto. This is not a dream. Not this time, this warning had to come in person." Naruto drags a hand down his face, looking around him at the still houses, crumbling skeletons that once bore life and the dead pond, a single ripple of a nightly bug spreading across the surface.

His breathing is unsteady – facing the mother of the friend he failed has made him uneasy. She still treats him with kindness, her voice never leaving that soft, musical pitch and yet Naruto can't help but wonder if an edge will seep into that tone like a knife.

He almost hopes it will. No one else will blame him for failing to bring Sasuke back sooner, to keep Sasuke from leaving in the first place. He jumps when there is a hand on his face, glancing up at the Uchiha woman. Her smile is serene and remorseful.

"You have no choice, Naruto. Your soul is bound to his in a way that cannot be severed until this ordeal is over. When he dies, you will be brought over the boundary and I will explain more then." Mikoto leans in and kisses Naruto's forehead – it's obscenely motherly. Naruto wants to push her away, to question her on this mysterious 'Him.' He wants to rip her eyes out just to stop them gazing at him like that. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. I am sorry for all you that have and all that you will endure at the hands of the Uchiha's."

"What do you mean?" Naruto draws back sharply from the warm comfort, finding his voice once more. "What do you _mean_?"Her expression truly is apologetic as she draws away, far enough for Naruto to march away if he wishes but close enough to keep a loose hold on his wrist to prevent him.

"Soon, Naruto," she promises in a lullaby of a voice that soothes him into a pleasant kind of mindlessness. "Sleep now, Naruto. Sleep a dreamless sleep." With a touch of her fingers to his forehead, Naruto's body sinks into the nothingness of slumber with the ease and comfort of sinking into a warm bath.

His last sight before the clouds roll in is a soft-faced Mikoto, laying him down with yet another sweet kiss to his forehead.

/\/\

Jolting movements.

A continuous sway.

Left-right, left-right, left-right.

Is he being carried? Is he walking?

Sleepiness once again conquers over his conscious and Naruto finds he hates the sensation of sinking.

/\/\

Voices, a crowd of them. They rumble and sing and dance just over the surface of his consciousness. He can register them but he does not yet want to join them. He is peaceful here in the dark – dim images of a flash of red, a girlish giggle and a happy kind of sadness. Or is it a sad kind of happiness?

There's warmth here, a lingering sense of something he cannot quite grasp. He _likes_ it here.

But the voices are insistent. They demand he comes back to them, rejoins them in their world. He doesn't know why he is so reluctant to go.

"Naruto, come on, man, before I _really_ start to panic."

"I will hit you, Naruto; I swear by everything I hold dear I _will_ thump you!"

"Troublesome."

"Calm down, Kiba. He is f-fine. Just e-exhausted, I'm sure. He h-hasn't b-been sleeping well."

He eases his eyes open. Something pangs in his chest and he feel guilt. The voices are concerned. Who is he to keep them in such an unpleasant state? Those eyes flicker open, his sight blurred through a haze of drowsiness. Figures crowd his vision – figures that get clearer with every blink.

"Naruto, you complete _jerk_." A slam to the solar plexus that leaves him winded and wheezing before those same guilty hands tug him into a hug. "What were you _thinking_?"

Naruto is still trying to catch his breath as well as come round. He recognises this scent enveloping him and the pink hair that brushes his face. He knows the strength that ploughed into his stomach.

"Sakura." It comes out as a breathless sigh. It's a comfort to feel her arms around him, crowding him with concern like the sister he never had.

She draws back then and brings Naruto's still disorientated attention to the others in the room – Shikamaru lazes on the opposite chair; Kiba kneels to the side of Sakura who is seated in front of him with Hinata hovering close to the Kiba, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"What was I thinking?" He repeats dumbly and there is a vague sense of déjà-vu. He blinks, gently pushing the pink haired girl away from him and frowning at her. He remembers what happened the night before – the gathering of Rookie 9, minus a certain someone no longer welcome at Naruto's home, the eyes monitoring his every move from reflective surfaces, the beckoning voice, so warm and persuasive, Mikoto Uchiha, her plea for her to save her son...

He can't tell them that. They'd report him to Tsunade quicker than you could say 'ramen' and she'd force him into an overnight observation. She has been making allusions between stress and his state of being, his 'out-of-character behaviour', as if growing up and losing that childish optimism is a crime. She always used to rag on him to mature, and now that he has she worries.

He hasn't completely lost his optimism. He still believes there is good in everyone and everything and most people deserve a second chance, it's just he has realised that the extent he used to believe them wasn't realistic and would eventually kill him.

"What happened?" He needs to know what they think happened, and then he can work with it, make up believable lies to ease their worry.

"You went weird on us and left us," Kiba starts, with a shrug. "Then we decided, ya know, that two three hours of you wondering somewhere by your self is long enough and then find you collapsed outside of Ichiraku's." Kiba moves forward on his knees. "What were you doing, man?"

The blond struggles to sit up right, Sakura slipping of the edge of the sofa and onto her knees beside him. "I needed to think I guess, Sai had said some things that hit close to home." He glances at Hinata, before smiling a little. "I guess exhaustion got the better of me."

Shikamaru gazes at Naruto from across the room, unconvinced. He and Naruto stare at each other, Naruto trying to project innocence and Shikamaru searching those eyes for the truth. Finally the brunette nods his head, leaning back opting to stay out of this little truth-or-lies game for the time being.

He isn't any of his business after all. Naruto isn't hurt or damaged in any way. Case closed, no need to worry.

"But hey, I'm good now," Naruto says with a smile. His stomach rumbles. He glances out at it with amusement. "Good but hungry, so unless any of you thought to cook for the poor, beaten down soul that I am, move off and let me get some ramen."

Another hit, this time to the head. "Idiot, you can't eat ramen!" Sakura is towering over him now, fisted hands on her hips. "You passed out; you could've hit your head. You are eating something that will keep your strength up!"

Naruto opens his mouth to argue, but Hinata cuts him off with a gentle, "s-she's right. Just f-for today, at l-least."

"Hinata..." He drags out her name with a whiney tone but she doesn't waver. Sakura grumbles something about making him stay on a healthy diet as she marches into the kitchen to inspect his cupboards, even though she doesn't expect to find much.

Sakura comes back out of the kitchen. "There is nothing worthwhile in these cupboards," she discloses disdainfully. "Hinata come shopping with me, please." The dark haired Hyuuga ducks her head in acknowledgement, smiling lightly to Naruto and wishing him to get well before she joins Sakura at the doorway.

Kiba swoop sin closer to Naruto. "Look mate, I know you're in a bad way and all that, but..." he glances wistfully at the door that is beginning to swing closed by its own violation.

Naruto swings a hand to his head dramatically. "Woe is me, my best friend is ditching me, in my frail and ill state, to chase skirt instead, only to mooch back over when he is rejected."

"You know what?" Kiba says threateningly, clenching his fist. "I don't think you're ill _enough –"_

"You can go!" Naruto interrupts hurriedly. "You have my blessing and all that. Shoo, dogboy, shoo before an actual _decent_ man comes and woos your fair lady."

"I knew you'd understand," the brunette grins. "I'll catch you later." And with that Kiba is gone, pursuing the girls like an eager pup. There is a comfortable silence drifting over the flat like a haze and Naruto warily glances at Shikamaru, hoping he'll find interrogation (well, Shikamaru's interrogation is never too hard-pressing – although now Naruto thinks about it, that lazy trait melted away as his youth did, much like Naruto's optimism and Sakura's value in vanity) too troublesome even now that the other three are not hovering around him like anxious bees.

"You're not telling us something."

For Shikamaru to leave it alone is apparently too much to ask. Naruto tries of innocence and levity, so he shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. I haven't been sleeping well – nightmares."

It should suffice. For anyone other than the damn Nara it _would_ suffice. But he sees too much, knows too much – even though he doesn't want to, sometimes sees his intelligence as a curse because it means people expect him to actually _do_ things, he can. Nothing escapes him for long.

"Uchiha came to see you."

Naruto jerks upwards, registering a faint dizziness in the back of his head, but ignores it. "What?"

"He wants to know why you were at the compound."

"What? Who says I was there?"

"The panic in your voice does," Shikamaru answers simply.

Naruto narrows his eyes, realization dawning. He should've known really, he should know how Shikamaru works by now. "You lied to me."

"No more then you just lied to us."

Damn Shikamaru's never failing logic. Naruto falls back into position with a sigh. "How'd you guess?"

"A hunch." There is another pause. "And the fact you mumble in your sleep, something I have never really noticed before. I am not going to ask why, far too troublesome to get any more involved in this when there is no evidence of violence, but watch yourself."

Naruto laughs. "Why is it the two least profound people have taken it upon themselves to make sure I'm okay? Sai even got through a little speech – that if I thought he cared enough, I would've sworn he practised – without once even mentioning 'dickless'." He shakes his head and glances at the Nara. "Should I start looking for the signs of the apocalypse?"

Shikamaru returns the smile. "Don't worry about it; we're just having an off day."

Naruto hums thoughtfully. "Thinking of off days, you and Ino, eh?" Shikamaru wishes he had kept the peaceful silence that had stretched between them after the girls and Kiba disappeared, because Naruto is grinning wickedly and Shikamaru knows he has a whole stock of embarrassing, prodding questions lined up just for him.

/\/\

Naruto is left alone in his apartment, having waved his guests away after Sakura had sat him down and cooked him what she deemed to be a good, well-balanced lunch. Naruto hadn't been quite so sure.

There had been laughs, giggling little things over childish gags of old crushes and teasing prods at current romantic interests, of which most were aimed at Sakura who had settled down with the exuberant Lee six months ago after six years of damn persistent pursuing and her own reluctance due to the intense studying she took up under Tsunade. She had laughed along good-naturedly, the easy smile and glittering eyes a beautiful sight to see and Naruto could almost feel the ghost of that past affection flicker interestedly before it was doused with his love for her in a purely sisterly way.

She filled a whole he had always wanted but never, in his youth, from her. A sister. A family. Someone he could turn to at any time with any issue and know that even if it angered her or if she disapproved, he wouldn't be turned away from her comfort and advice. His family was an extensive one.

As he closes the door to their backs as they melt into the quickening evening, Naruto is left with a warm feeling swelling in his chest like a bubble, a thing that brings a smile to his face and erases his confusion of last night, or at least pushes it deep into his unconscious to be dealt with some other time. When he looks around now, he doesn't see himself as the unwanted boy without parents, that feeling of missing out on something has faded to a mere pulse that threads through his body only very now and then, the fear of abandonment slightly lessened although he knows that will never fade – it is ingrained within him.

He will always fear being alone.

But he shakes his head, waving away the mist of thoughts not yet ready to relinquish this warm, happy feeling spilling over his chest. So, willing it to hold a little longer by simply recalling a few of the bad jokes and resulting indignation, he clears the kitchen – well, he dumps the plate and glasses in a bowl of cold washing up water – and takes himself to the shower.

When he comes out, hair damp and body a little chilled in his state of undress, an orange towel hanging over his shoulder and a loose pair of jogging bottoms sitting low on his hips, he wanders thoughtfully across the hall to grab a top, stopping only when his subconscious lightly nudges at him, the Kyuubi scolding him for his apparent obliviousness to his own surroundings.

Frowning, Naruto backtracks, to find Sasuke leaning against his door, arms folded and gaze fixed at the window, gazing at some far off place that Naruto could never see himself.

"What are you doing here?" he cannot keep the bitter hostility out of his voice. Only yesterday this same man had ignored him outright and now he is standing in his home as if he has every right.

He had once. But that right had been revoked.

The haughty, self-important expression his face allows a familiar anger to curl through his veins, a slow burning fire of built up rage stroking at him, coaxing him. But Naruto can't get away with that behaviour any more, not the childish, screw-the-rules, fighting-is-always-the-answer rashness. He had schooled himself out of it after a near miss in which his hot-headedness almost killed Sai who came to aid him whilst on a mission a few years back.

Naruto may make more mistakes than the average person, but he hardly ever makes them twice.

Sasuke doesn't bother to grace him with even a glance – not Naruto, the boy who risked everything to rag him back to his damn sense. No, he is worth nothing. He is nothing. Naruto's eyes flash with fury – Fury, an old friend back to welcome him with warm arms, ready to embrace him with the fire of the seemingly righteous.

The warmth is replaced by a cold hurt and worthlessness. He hates, loathes how the Uchiha's dismissal can still effect him so much, after four years, you'd have thought the blade would've dulled. But apparently it only knows to get sharper. Like a razor.

Naruto rubs his chin, thinking distractedly that he could do with a shave (a means to assuage the building tension in his body with things detached from his anger) as the Uchiha speaks. "You were at the compound, Uzumaki." The blond winces at the employment of his last name, a symbol of the distance between them, before he could stop himself. He too, has become accustomed to calling the Uchiha by his last name – a cold civility when needed. But he doesn't like it. He thrives on friendship, on being around people. He needs to be needed, to know that he is wanted in some way – and the Uchiha denies him of that need. It makes Naruto feel weak like a child in front of the man that commands a power he should never have been granted, or at least, given in moderation with the proper guidance in order not to buckle.

Naruto cannot imagine Sasuke without the invisible, naked power he welds with a deadly precision.

Still those darkened orbs don't face him, and Naruto finds himself glad as he joins the Uchiha in his gazing out of the window. He doesn't want to see the blankness of those eyes as he hears the emptiness of his voice.

"What makes you say that?" Cool, collected – Naruto praises himself in speaking so steadily. A few years before and the infuriation and the confusion and hurt would have seeped through like poison oozing from a wound.

"You were meeting with someone. Who?" Sharp, cold statements – impersonal like a surgeon's knife.

"Why should I answer you Uchiha?" Naruto counters. "You don't deserve anything from me. Get out of my home. You are not welcome here."

Those eyes look at him now and Naruto meets the gaze with pseudo-bravery. A lesser man would've crumpled but Naruto learned years ago that weakness is mocked and strength is respected, even if grudgingly, in the narrow world of the Uchiha.

The dark haired man's face remains impassive – a beautiful, hateful mask of indifference. Once upon a time there had been cracks, little crumbling slivers that Naruto had managed to wriggle his fingers under and tear away to reveal the soft fleshy part of Sasuke – but the Uchiha had resealed those rips in his armour and Naruto has no way of penetrating it now.

They are worse than enemies now, because an enemy implies some kind of hostile relationship between them. But this thing between them is purely one-sided; a one-sided rage. A one-sided loss.

Naruto isn't even worth the old derision. When the Uchiha had muttered an insult, it is merely a monotone word, with no meaning, no feeling behind it. Just a word tumbling from lips on automatic. It hurts more than the rage-fuelled threats of the villagers when Naruto is young.

Naruto sneers at himself in disgust – god, he sounds like a snivelling pathetic child.

They stare at each other – tension crackles like electricity from Naruto, it thrums with an uncomfortable life under his skin. He is waiting, anticipating... what?

Nothing Sasuke will give him, that's for sure.

"Well, isn't this a happy little reunion?" Naruto's gaze, grateful for a distraction from the bottomless pits that devoured his soul, flies to the window where Kakashi crouches, feet planted squarely on the window sill. Naruto doesn't care that the relief bursting in his chest is so visible, that Sasuke can track each and every shred of discomfort and tension and thanks on his face should the Uchiha so please as he grins up at the silver-headed man.

He steps forward, navigating his living room with ease before stopping a foot or so in front of the window – Sasuke seemingly momentarily forgotten and yet ever present in the back of Naruto's mind.

"What are you doing here old man?" Naruto asks as Kakashi hops down from his perch and straightens. "If you're here to try and make me convince Iruka that you're a good person, you can bugger off. You sold Kiba and me out the other day. In fact, I hope the couch eats you in your sleep."

Kakashi just grins at him – well, Naruto assumes the man is grinning, else his eyes have had a serious tick for a long time and he should probably have it looked at – and shrugs.

"Not my problem."

"Is so your problem old man. Sold out for sex – teammates should look out for each other." Naruto barely registers what he has said but Kakashi does, his eye flicking over to Sasuke who has resumed staring dispassionately out of the window.

The dark haired man doesn't even twitch. Kakashi almost wants to applaud him if that wouldn't be grossly inappropriate.

"I was never your teammate Naruto," Kakashi says instead. "I was your teacher. Besides, it is very _good_ sex."

The blonde blanches, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Sick, Kakashi. Real sick." That said Naruto rubs absently at his nose. "Why you here, Pervert-extraordinaire? I assume it isn't for a run down on -" The blond cuts off his sentence with a shake of his head. "No, I can't even finish that sentence."

"What? Can't put Iruka and sex in the same sentence?" Kakashi's grin, if it could be seen, would be an evil one, the same twisted smile a tormentor wears when indulging in his addiction.

Naruto claps his hands over his ears. "La la la," he sings, eyes closed in case Kakashi would make any rude hand gestures. "I can't hear you." With his ears blocked by his hands and his own singing, Naruto misses Kakashi's soft, "This includes you as well Sasuke. No sneaking off now when his back is turned."

He also misses the grunt Kakashi receives in reply. When he cautiously releases one of his ears, azure eyes narrow as they glare at Kakashi, the silver haired man simply smiles.

"Why you here, old man?" he grinds out instead, arm crossed over his chest in disapproval of his mentors perversion of Iruka – his innocent, if a little unstable, teacher – and almost protection against hearing of those inclinations.

"Tsunade wants the both of you."

Naruto raises an eyebrow but nods, watching as Kakashi takes pride of place on the window sill once more. "You know, you could use that thing over there, you know the wooden thing with a handle and hinges and most importantly a _lock. _Ordinary people do – hey, what are you doing?"

Naruto tugs slightly on his arm where Kakashi has taken hold of it, his arm snatching out and grasping him like a manacle. The man leans in slightly, head tilted toward the blondes' neck and Naruto titters nervously.

"Kakashi?" What the hell is the man doing? He shifts a little and Kakashi draws back, grin firmly in place, even if his crouch on the window sill seems a little tenser than before.

Had the man just _sniffed_ him?

"Since when was I normal?" Kakashi then salutes them in farewell and drops out of vision. Naruto gapes at the space his once-mentor had been before dashing over, palms flat against the wood to keep himself from launching out of the window. His eyes scan the outside, searching for those familiar gravity-defying spikes so he can yell a question after his teacher but the silver-haired man is nowhere to be seen amongst the chattering villages going about their business.

Naruto steps back, snapping the window closed and rubbing his neck self-consciously. "Well that was weird..." Frowning he turns to confront the Uchiha, only to find the spot the silent bastard had occupied is also empty.

The sad thing is that it still stings.

/\/\

Naruto pushes open the door to the _Hokage's_ office with little ceremony. He kicks it shut behind him and throws himself into a chair beside Sasuke. "Afternoon my favourite Hag," he grins with no sense of preservation, perfectly ducking the book that is lobbed in his direction. It slams against the wall with a shattering force, Naruto is a little disappointed.

If Tsunade really put her back into it, the wall could've cracked. He aims his most disarming smile at her as he settles.

"Impertinent idiot," the woman grumbles as she too sits back in her chair. "Just you wait, Uzumaki," she threatens with a finger poised in his direction. "Revenge is a dish best served cold."

"I'm only trying to make sure you have the opportunity to have the _best_ meal as is befitting a lady of your station," Naruto says with a cheeky wink and Tsunade growls but it is a fond, affectionate thing behind the irritation.

"I can see that Jiraiya had a lasting impression you brat." Her eyes flick over the satisfied grin and she shakes her head. "It isn't something to be proud of, he was a damn lecher." Again a sad fondness laced her words and she smiles though before shaking her head.

"Excuse me." Icy tones. Naruto doesn't flinch as he once had. He keeps his eyes forward, not bothering to allow them to slide to the side in microsecond glance. "Sorry to interrupt, but we were called here for a reason _Hokage-sama_." Cool politeness. Cold respect. Is it true, that respect or a farce?

Tsunade straightens and nods her head. "Of course. Nothing too strenuous I'm afraid, but I rather wished to deliver the news myself." Her smile is turned on the blond who stares back. "The _Kazakage _has asked the medical scrolls he so kindly lent us back, with a request that Naruto spends a little time with him."

Naruto's eyes light up with an excited flame. "Oh yes," he beams. "I _love_ that man. I really do. Naruto is having a holiday." He pumps his fist in a victory motion, before settling with a goofy grin. It had been some time since he had been his silent friend, more time then Naruto deems necessary.

He knows his friend is busy, running a country does eat up ones time. But still – he _misses_ the red-headed, emotionally-stunted, would-be-could-be murderer.

"Why am I to go along?"

Tsunade draws her attention from the relaxed and cheery blond to face the Uchiha. Stoic as ever, face unreadable. It is almost unsettling how well that mask fits his face. Tsunade is sure there will come a time when his mask eventually melds to his face and that the two will become one.

"Because the Kazekage is also in possession of a scroll of ours – compensation in case something should happen to his scrolls."

"Trust the bastard to be over protective, as if we would do anything to his damn scrolls." Naruto scoffs, with a roll of his eyes.

Tsunade glares at him for his interruption. "I need someone to bring them back, I'd rather they be brought back as soon as possible, _undamaged_." Her eyes are burning with something else, Naruto notes, but neglects to work out what. He takes a peek at Sasuke, who is gazing at her before he nods stiffly.

Something passed in that gaze, Naruto realised belatedly. But he does not know what. The childish demanding part of him feels insulted at being left out, and commands he finds out what secret they shared, but the more mature, adult side of him that sounds oddly like Iruka reprimands such thought.

_It is not your secret to know. _

No, Naruto agrees, it isn't. Instead he stands, with an exuberant gesture, dashing over to the _Hokage_, pressing over the desk and brands her cheek with a kiss before cackling a little manically and entirely gleefully and darting from the room.

Sasuke appears unaffected by the blonds' joy and stands more sedately. "Thank you, _Hokage-sama_." She stares at him a little longer before she nods her acceptance and he leaves the door shutting with a _snick _behind him.

She slumps back in her chair and rubs her eyes tiredly. "Come out Kakashi, we have things to discuss."

/\/\

The Kyuubi comes to him that night in a dream. The room Naruto is in is a small little thing, cosy and comfortable – the walls are an obnoxious orange and yet there are flickering shadows, grasping, ghoulish things that reach out for him from the darkened corners. He learnt long ago to keep away from them.

Hence the reason why all the furniture except the fireplace, the source of the dancing light, is about a foot away from the walls – just in case.

Naruto wanders around the room, avoiding the far side where the darkened bars to Kyuubi's cage lingers, glinting with malicious intent as the light of its weapon bounces off cool metal. This space is his mind, he came to realise. It has changed and matured slightly as he has grown – there are pictures, snapshots of life and desires and wants. Writings of his dreams and aspirations, cracks in the walls as evidence of his pain.

As his respect, grudging and unwanted, for the demon his houses grew, so had the demon's cage, which now takes up a second room behind those bars. He stares up at the pictures above the fireplace, the only safe haven from the shadows. There's the original team seven, and the secondary one; Iruka awarding him his headband after the Mizuki incident when he was twelve; Sakura and himself from the days when his crush still hadn't waned; a group shot of all his friends: Hinata, Neji, Kiba (who is glancing, Naruto notes for the hundredth time, sneakily at the Hyuuga heiress) Shino (preoccupied with a bug); Ino and Sakura either side of a pissed-off looking Sasuke, their scowls only skin deep; a Sai painting just off to the side, just a little way away from the group and yet still a apart of them; Choji, and Shikamaru are lounged at the front, Temari and Tenten seated with them as Lee is in mid-run across the shot.

Naruto smiles and goes to the touch the picture, when the voice of the Kyuubi, smooth and chilling, drifts across the room.

_You stink of those Shifters of time and space, jumpers between dimensions._

He frowns, hand dropping to his side and as he turns to face those dreaded bars of his adversary and guest. "You know of them?" He asks. He had half been hoping everything had been a dream, something he could easily forget about – out of sight, out of mind.

He doesn't want to think of those things. He approaches the cage as the Kyuubi answers.

_Of course I do. We demons are not handicapped by your human perceptual inadequacies or your intellectual limitations._

The blond reaches the bars, and, with a sense of rash, stupid immortality, he smirks at the creature doused in darkness within. "And yet you got caught by us."

A tail lashes out of the darkness barely giving Naruto time to avoid it – the appendix thrashes against the bars. The metal's rattles threateningly, a funeral chime. Naruto straightens, cursing his foolhardiness. He can feel the satisfied grin of the demon wrap around him like a cocoon of slime.

_Still the kit fears the beast. _A tail slithers out from between the bars and grasps Naruto's chin, who jerks as if to release himself. The Kyuubi only chuckles gutturally as his eyes glow in the darkness that consumes it._ Good. That is how it is meant to be._

"What do you want?" he grinds out instead, hating the feel of the tail against his skin, smooth, soft – deceiving. A tail of flame and pain and torture wrapped almost lovingly around his chin as another sneaks out and tenderly strokes his cheek. Faux comfort. A mockery.

Naruto steels himself under the soft touch, accepting his punishment for his idiocy. He braces himself for the violence that should follow – but then something, a cold thing creeping up his spine like a parasite, suggests that perhaps the Kyuubi has something else under his belt better then doling out physical pain.

_Just to relay a word of caution young one_, comes the smooth reply. Naruto is jerked forward by the tails, face to face with the bars. He can feel the demon breath on his face – hot like lava, with the smell of ash and smoke. A snout presses to his ear in a parody of a human whispering to another. An unnecessary feat – Kyuubi needs not to open his mouth to utter his words. _What is to come will be of your own doing, borne from your inherent weakness._

Then the blond is released and the demon skulks back into the darkness, his tails withdrawing. Naruto frowns, pressing against the bars. "What? What do you mean Kyuubi?"

Those smouldering eyes gaze at him languidly. _You shall see soon enough._

"Why warn me and not tell me why?" He is getting sick of his questions being left unanswered.

_Because your anguish is so sweet to the taste, young one. _Those eyes slip closed until there is nothing but black within the cell. _Until next time, cub. _

_/\/\_

_So there we have it. What do you think? This is certainly darker than I first anticipated me thinks. OH and yes, I have decided there will be a little Gaara/Naruto in this because it really is hot, besides they both understand each other so well I think. That will come in next(?) chapter. I think. (: Thank you for reading. _


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Naruto, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Kishimoto. _

_**Pairings: **__Mentioned:__ NarutoOFC and NaruGaa_

_**Notes: **__Right, this chapter didn't go quiet according to plan. A lot more was supposed to happen then what did, but hey ho there we go. Nothing wrong with an added chapter. I think I got carried away with the NarutoGaara situation, why? Because I love Gaara bless him. So sorry, but it will explain quite a few things as the story goes on, as Gaara will be central when it comes to Naruto's angsting. I just think Gaara and Naruto are too close not to mention him. They might've had different philosophies but they went through similar things, they have an understanding Sasuke and Naruto will never have. _

_Sorry it's taken so long. I have had to sort out things for university and exams and stuffs. But here we go. I hope you enjoy it. ALSO, anyone reading China Lies, I AM working on the rewrite and it will be posted within the next two weeks latest. _

_Enjoy :)_

/\/\

**Chapter Three:**

Shifting through the bullshit is tiring. Naruto never had to worry about this before, to bust his balls trying to figure out truth from lies, but now... now things are happening and he doesn't know what. Now cryptic shit is getting thrown around the place and he doesn't understand. He _can't_ understand and yet, the way they speak those words, the way they stare at him with their eyes, screaming their expectation of understanding. Mikoto, Kakashi, Kyuubi – what is this? A game?

_What the fuck is going on?_

He thought he could perhaps brush the incident at the compound off as a tripped out hallucination, an odd dream amongst a multitude of odd dreams that inhabit his conscience, an extension of his recent dreams of some other place where things aren't so messed up.

But the Kyuubi – the demon has never been a friend, never someone on which Naruto could depend. It's only hungry for destruction and fire – promise him that, Naruto has learned, and he will serve for as long as it suits him. But, he has never lied to Naruto. Why lie when the truths are so much more painful, so much more humiliating and confusing? Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, Kyuubi will share truths with him and watch as he self-destructs as the demon always warns he will.

It has no reason to lie but all the reason in the word to be an enigmatic bastard, sharing only a half truth, a tantalizing morsel that someone like Naruto can't make heads or tails of.

And for that, he cannot simply brush off the appearance of the once-dead Mikoto as nothing more than another warning signal of his impending insanity. The Kyuubi doesn't need to feed a psychosis; Naruto knows that if it came down to it, he has more than enough ghosts hiding in his head to fuel the fire quite nicely all by himself.

But it is impossible. Sasuke as witness, Mikoto Uchiha is dead. Gone. Her life was driven from her body by the hands of the son she bore, avenged by the son she left. Ghosts are the creations of the mad and the guilty. He is neither. He has never known the Uchiha's in order to feel some guilt against them. If any phantom was to haunt him, surely it would more likely be that of Haku or the many faceless grunts he has killed, who must have family or lovers somewhere in the world mourning their loss.

But not her. So why is he seeing her? The moment the dead can resurrect is the moment that the world falls to ruin, but Naruto is not yet ready to accept that impossibility. The dead cannot rise, at least, not in the way that Mikoto apparently has.

So how? Why? What does this all mean? Dire warnings, apologies for future events – just what is Naruto missing? Just what is he about to be dragged into?

The heavy sense of foreboding cloaks his flat like stubborn dust, refusing to clear away to clarity. Irritatingly obscure they remain milky white films across his eyes. The blond sighs, a world-weary whoosh of breath, as he throws a bundle of clothes in the general direction of his bag.

At least he has a trip to Suna to look forward to and a long awaited reunion and catch up with Gaara – someone who understood him more than anyone else truly could, someone who doesn't care for puzzling nonsense simply because it means wasting more breath on useless words in the future. It means a few days away in the heat of the desert and company of strangers who don't taint their smiles with acid or words with poison.

A smile bleeds onto his face. Suna. A home away from home, a sanctuary he can flee to without any demands of explanation upon its doors and complete unquestionable acceptance. It is his security net and comfort blanket when Konoha fails him.

It's a place that harbours so many memories, the loss of his virginity a prominent one among them. Virginity to both genders, actually. It had been during the week long festivities Temari and Kankuro had organised whilst Gaara was visiting Konoha on a diplomatic venture for the Kazekage's birthday. Naruto, along with the other of Rookie Nine who could be spared, had been summoned the night before the redheads' birthday so that they may join in with the celebrations.

Naruto remembers Gaara's expression the morning of his birthday with glee, Temari and Kankuro had paid their respects to their mother earlier in the morning before shoving Gaara out of his study and into the bright world of daylight and joy. He looked truly murderous.

That night Naruto had gone out tasting the local sake with Kiba and ended up picking up a pretty brunette who worked on one of the stalls. She was older than him by a few years, but good looking with a cheeky smile and bright eyes. It was one of the first girls Naruto had experienced who didn't look at him with disgust – Sakura had always regarded him as such, and when that passed he knew that the look in her eyes was purely friendly. He had been too oblivious to Hinata's interest in that sort of thing, deeming her too innocent to even entertain such thoughts, to realise her eyes held what he was looking for – and one thing just lead to another.

Naruto, looking back now, reflected she had been good. Better than good. He had had nothing to compare it to back then of course, but it was three years past and he has more experience now. She was fluid with her body, she knew how to please, she knew how to work her body just right – and besides, he was a hormonal boy deprived of normal touches. Anything would've felt good to him, if he was brutally honest.

She taught him that night just how to pleasure a girl with his hands and mouth with the gentle ease and quiet demands of a girl who knew what she wanted and was at ease with her body. She guided him, drunken, fumbling and blatantly out of his depth with an odd kind of patience as well, content, it seemed to teach him, to _train_ him almost. (She later confessed to him that she had a thing for virgins, the strange power she got from it and the fact that they were just so damn cute with their nervous awkwardness.)

And Naruto had enjoyed it. He had liked the sensation of her body under his hands, the softness of her curves and smoothness of her skin. She was never meant to be ninja, not with the silken texture of her skin like honey. Yes, he remembered thinking after, he had enjoyed it. The heat around him, the comfort of her body, the soft little noises that fell from her lips like water – he came with a sigh of his own and slept after a few exchanged words.

He had woken up a lone that morning, with a note resting on the pillow beside him. He had laughed at it; the wording was brief but nice. He can barely remember it now, only can he see the cursive, feminine writing. It had mentioned something of thanks for a great night and an offer to go and see her whenever he wished. There had been a lipstick kiss pressed to the paper beside her name.

He still visits Emiko whenever he has the chance, purely as friends.

His second loss of virginity, if one can think of it as such, was halfway through the celebrations and a better kept secret for the sakes of both involved. It had been a few days into it, and Naruto had been trying to loosen up on the drinking. Kiba and Sakura and the rest who had been able to join had disappeared after Naruto had politely refused, begging out due to a headache. His friends had all read it correctly as a hangover and left him behind within the palace walls.

Gaara had also opted out of any nightly ventures; he had done his civic duty during the day. He made his rounds, thanked those who wished him a happy birthday and whatever else it was that the Kazekage did during the day, before retreating to his rooms – the only true sanctuary he had against his siblings and guards alike. And it had been in there where Naruto had found him, thoughtfully knocking on the door only because Gaara's temper was a cruel and quiet thing.

What happened for the first part of that evening, Naruto will never forget. It is imbedded upon his memory – a date of importance and a reminder of how close the two truly are.

_The knock on the door was obscenely loud in the quiet of the hallway. Naruto hoped that Gaara hadn't been sleeping, and just finishing up some paper work. Earlier that evening at dinner, for the last few nights actually, the redheaded Kazekage had been quieter than usual. His silence was usually amicable, a little hostile as was his nature, but easy to handle. But these past few nights, he was more intimidating than normal – it was a like a cloak of darkness that shrouded him. Even Naruto was hesitant in his approach. _

_Naruto hovered outside the door, glancing up and down the cool hallway. He was just about to turn and leave when there was a small noise from inside, a beckoning sound that Naruto wasn't about to ignore, no matter what mood Gaara might have been in. _

_So the door eased open and poked his head around to find Gaara sitting on his bed. The bedcovers were only slightly dishevelled from where Gaara had shifted his position. There were papers and files strewn over the covers in front of him and he was holding one bottle of three of expensive sake Tsunade had sent as a gift by the neck. Was that grasp a little too loose for a sober man? _

_Glancing around, Naruto spotted another fallen bottle. It had obviously rolled a few feet away from the bed in its tumble, a small gathering of liquid beneath the opening – the last dregs of Tsunade's favourite. The room itself was depressingly dark; the curtains were drawn across the windows, shutting out the light of the night sky and the colours of the fireworks that had engulfed the sky each and every night in celebration. _

"_Gaara?" His body slipped in after his head easily, his hands working to close the door behind him with a _snick_. Those eyes glance up from where Gaara had been staring at the covered window – an almost wistful expression on his face. "Gaara, are you okay?" _

_He approached the bed with the caution, soft, steady steps – nothing to lull Gaara out of his seeming complacency and into attack-mode, which he shifted into a little too easily. Now Shukaku was gone, Naruto could take Gaara on without a problem, but he really didn't want to._

_Gaara was no less dangerous without the demon. _

"_How can they celebrate?" The alcohol had loosened his tongue, Naruto was sure of that, but even then there was a softness in which he spoke was something he recognised from 'normal' Gaara. A tone he'd only bless Naruto with, the one person who knew truly what he has gone through. There was a brokenness there as well; something Gaara had revealed in the dark when it had been Naruto needing comfort and understanding._

_Naruto inched on the bed, carefully shifting a few papers into a pile not knowing what was vitally important and what were simple memos. He knew from experience it was better to just let Gaara speak – to reply, to break the almost trance he would seep into would shut him down completely; make him feel vulnerable and in turn furious. _

_So Naruto simply kept his mouth shut and listened._

"_I killed her." His voice was so quiet, a whisper, alive with the pain he has never truly recovered from. The abuse, the darkness, the pain of the words of his Uncle had never truly healed over – they left gaping wound that never truly scarred, only scabbed, waiting to be torn open and ooze poison once more. _

_Naruto understood this. _

"_I killed her and they are _celebrating_." This was a rare occasion. Only once before have they spoken of such things, and Gaara hadn't even really spoken – just uttered a few words here and there that Naruto had correctly interpreted. _

_Naruto had to wonder if he had ever been able to speak freely of this. But then, considering Gaara's hostile disposition, he thought not. _

_When Gaara finally turned to look at him, Naruto touched his arm, gently stroking up and down his arm in both comfort and encouragement as he slipped the bottle away from Gaara's fingers. _

_Contrary to popular belief, Naruto could be an excellent listener._

"_I should never have been born..." there had been silence after that. Gaara had reclaimed his gaze on the curtain and Naruto had continued to stroke his arm, a constant reminder that Gaara was not alone. _

Naruto can't remember how they had ended up kissing after that rather intimate moment. He remembers Gaara had said something, mumbled a little actually, so Naruto and leaned a little closer as a wordless request for repetition. But how they ended up kissing, Naruto couldn't tell you. Who ducked towards the other first was a mystery but Naruto has a little shame that he didn't act straight away to push his friend off.

He had indulged for a moment, curious to know how different kissing a boy in such a manner would differ from Emiko's kiss, before his greater sense and morality kicked him in the face and told him allowing his drunk, obviously emotionally vulnerable friend to kiss him was not a good idea.

But then Gaara had to, in all his inebriated and vulnerable and too-bloody-trustworthy state had to whisper "_please_." Naruto couldn't say no to something Gaara so obviously needed, something that had him, Gaara of the Sand, one of the most feared people, actually come this close to begging.

Naruto couldn't deny his friend something he also craved from people. Validation. Comfort. Warmth. _Forgetfulness._ They had been too alike not for Naruto not to comprehend what Gaara needed – Naruto had needed it to, but always found ways to satisfy the hunger in other ways, by surrounding himself with friends.

Gaara never had that luxury, as closed off as he is.

And so Naruto had consented, telling Gaara that if he even thinks of beating the shit out of him in the morning because of this he will not be happy, before allowing Gaara to kiss him again.

It had started off gentle, Gaara testing the waters, perhaps. But it had grown steadily more violent and hungry. There had been more teeth then tongue in Gaara's kisses, nails ripped down Naruto's sides and up his flanks, bites nettled his neck – Gaara demanded where Emiko had coaxed. He abused flesh almost mercilessly and commanded the same kind of attention back, desired it to be _hard_.

Gaara, Naruto realised, with a faint trepidation because he had never been good at doling out pain to friends, needed the ferocity. He had to forget for a moment, and the way to forget would be to concentrate on the physical pain, the physical desperation and pleasure rather than anything mental. He needed to clear his mind of the mental.

Naruto had no idea what he was doing, inexperienced as he was, but Gaara seemed to sense that and would bark growling commands on what he wanted – a twisted kind of mild sadomasochism. This wasn't sweet carefulness, but hungry and fiery.

Gaara wasn't soft like Emiko, he was hard planes of muscle and mottled battle scars. He was anger and sorrow and desire all wrapped up on one body set to implode if something, anything wasn't done. He was desperation personified, shattered china only just holding together. He was at insanity's breach, forever so close to teetering over the precipice and falling into his own abyss.

And in all that terrible glory, Naruto found him more beautiful than anyone else.

When he had woken the next morning after the brutal fucking Gaara had demanded, he awoke anxious, worried he had hurt his friend, worried that their friendship was ruined beyond repair. He had expected to find Gaara brooding over in his personal library just off of the bedroom, like he usually would – insomnia still plaguing him. But rather the redhead was still asleep beside him looking more peaceful then Naruto had seen him in a while.

There were bites on his skin and scratches that Naruto had winced to look at despite knowing Gaara had wanted them, demanded them. His own bites and bruises had been healed by Kyuubi in his sleep he knew, but knowing Gaara gave as good as he got did not soothe Naruto's guilt. The acknowledgement that he had also enjoyed it to a certain extent also did nothing to help.

But then Gaara had nodded to him in the morning, with a soft apology and a quiet thank you and all had been well.

Since then, it has become commonplace for Gaara and Naruto to have sex – there have never been strict roles for the two of them, no real preference. There have been times when Naruto has needed some semblance of control, and Gaara has been more than happy to allow Naruto that however he wished, and other times he has needed to submit, to give up control in certain respects, or needed t be comforted. And Gaara has been the same. It is a comfortable relationship, something that doesn't encroach upon their friendship as it may with others.

Naruto has never demanded anything more Gaara, never truly desired it, and the same with Gaara. They were friends, they loved each other as friends, and as friends, sought out what others couldn't not truly give them or fully understand within each other. They are not exclusive. They are not lovers in the purest sense of the term.

And they never will be. They could never work together, too many dark demons within them both for them to function with any kind of normalcy.

Naruto smiles. It would be good to see Gaara again after so long, if for nothing but then to make sure he hasn't descended down the depths of insanity that forever thrum beneath the surface after years of being a bloodthirsty killer with Shukaku whispering in his ear.

Naruto sighs a little, rubbing his nose to sooth an itch before shouldering the bag he had been packing. He glances around his room to check if he has missed anything, but not really caring. He has a ton of stuff at Gaara's from where he has forgotten it or misplaced it. Besides, anything he has forgotten he can get when he gets there.

Rolling his shoulders to ease some lingering tension that has refused to unfurl from his muscles for the longest of times, Naruto acknowledges that perhaps a holiday was a good call on Tsunade's part. A few days away from this place with someone outside and yet central to his life would do some good. It would give Naruto time away to think without the fear of being interrupted with missions or the appearance of friends.

He'll bring back some sake for Tsunade as thanks, he thinks as he closes the door to his flat and locks it.

/\/\

"Some are just so _lucky_," Sakura says with a pout and warm eyes as she hugs Naruto. "You know, if you need me, I won't hesitate to come down and help you out maybe for a few days or something?"

Naruto laughs. "I'm sure you wouldn't." He gives her a last squeeze. "You'll be the first I'll call should an emergency requiring your immediate attendance and lasting a few days should occur."

"Good." Her smile is pleased, her cheeks rosy. Is there relief in that gaze as well?

"Yeah, and you know, should it be an emergency in which she would need backup, I definitely wouldn't be averse to coming along. Just to make sure everyone is safe, of course..." Naruto shakes his head at Ino, engulfing her in a hug.

"I'll be sure to add that to the memo." He draws back and smiles to Shikamaru, who had been dragged along to wish Naruto a good time by Ino, who hadn't taken no for an answer. He answers that smile with a brief rising of his hand before his gaze slides to Naruto's travelling companion set a little way apart with the scrolls strapped to his back.

"Tell Dog-boy I said bye when he gets back." With a last 'see ya later,' Naruto saunters over to Sasuke, barely allowing himself to glance at him before marching off towards the gates of Konoha in silence.

/\/\

Sakura watches the pair disappear through the gates, worrying her lip. Her jade eyes close in a soft, languid blink. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

Beside her, Ino shrugs. "I should think so. Neither is stupid enough to try and kill each other." She pauses thoughtfully. "They'll be as fine as they'll ever be. Naruto will snap and bite and Sasuke will stay silent. It's only a two day journey or so." The blonde reaches over and touches her anxious friends shoulder. "Naruto will be _fine_."

"Shouldn't you be going to Tsunade, Sakura?" Shikamaru drawls. "I saw Kakashi making his way up there already."

Sakura nods absently, her eyes on the gates before she smiles to her friends. "Yeah," it's more an exhale then a word. "I'd best be going. I'll catch you two later."

Ino turns to her boyfriend, eyes narrowed. "What do you know?" her voice is almost accusatory. Shikamaru glances at her before roving his eyes back up to the sky. She is a beautiful girl, proportionate. He is still surprised someone like her would be interested in someone like him, but he isn't one to protest too much.

"More than Tsunade would like, but less than I want," is his only answer.

/\/\

They have already fought once and it has only been an hour and a half. They had left the village at a sedate pace, walking among the brush like soldiers. Naruto had wanted to run, to dispel the nervous energy thrumming in his veins as well as get out of the bastards' company as quickly as possible. But Sasuke had refused his suggestion that they run – bounding from tree to tree sounded so freeing. And when Naruto had asked why, Sasuke had replied that Sakura had told Tsunade of his little fainting fit and she had specified that Naruto was not to use any unnecessary chakra.

And Naruto had been irritated. How dare they? How dare they assume to restrict him like that? What did they think they were doing?

Naruto had been ready to just disappear when Sasuke had stopped him, trapping him in place with a jutsu and calmly stating that he will not allow Naruto's bullheadedness and stubbornness cost him the trust of the _Hokage_.

He had only then released the blond when he had been given a sullen promise to just do _as he was told_. Naruto had tried his luck again only to be forced back by that same jutsu and Sasuke's blank expression. Naruto shrugged it off when he was released again but didn't try to run off – he had learned his lesson.

So now he is in a foul mood, irritated beyond belief that Tsunade had thought to restrict him like that and that Sasuke of all people had been the one to stop him. The only thing he can be glad for is that Sasuke's new-found indifference meant he isn't so inclined to rub his victory over Naruto in his face.

He simply ignored the fact he had the free-spirited Naruto, who listens to no one even now, under his control – limited as that control may be – and continued the journey in silence.

Within his head, the Kyuubi laughs his mocking chuckle. It echoes around his head at an unbearable pitch. Naruto twitches and presses the heel of his palm into his head as if the touch alone would sooth the demons' mirth and pleasure at inflicting whatever pain possible to his host. The laughter dies down but not before Uchiha stares at him impassively before deciding the blond man isn't in any danger and relocating his gaze.

Naruto grits his teeth, directing his own glare at a particular tree as he passes it. The silence, beneath the life thrumming through the wilderness, is deafening. Naruto finds himself wanting nothing more than to break the silence, but having nothing to say.

_Coward, _whispers the voice he knows is the Kyuubi but could just as easily be his own. Perhaps an apt title. Perhaps not.

"You never did tell me why you were at the compound." It isn't a question. Naruto stifles his irritation, thinking that perhaps wishing so fervently that he had something to talk about to break the silence was a little rash.

"It's none of your business." Naruto thinks that is probably a better answer then '_I was conversing with your dead mother_.' He swallows blackness.

"It's my home." The tone of his words digs at Naruto. So condescending and yet somehow blank. How is that even possible? Naruto grits his teeth, feeling the old, chilling embrace of annoyance bleed around his limbs like a serpent. It wouldn't take much for that to transform into a devouring fire, he think absently.

"Yeah, sorry I forgot you claim domain over that ghost town – a broken prince upon his broken throne."

"How poetic. Never thought you'd be lyrical." If that the Uchiha of old had spoken that sentence, there would've have been a sneer to accompany it. Mocking, disdainful and contemptuous. Naruto almost misses the condescension.

In a moment of weakness in his own barriers, the bitterness Naruto can feel swirling in his stomach against his better judgement laces his words like venom. "Didn't really think much of me at all, did you?"

"My, how needy you are, Uzumaki." It's the coolness of the statement that infuriates him. It's the blandness, the complete lack of anything and everything that Naruto had once held dear. It's the complete nothingness in his words reflecting his exact thoughts of Naruto that does it in the end. The freeze of annoyance implodes like a volcano into the blazing lava of fury, drenching his lungs and heart with ash and smoke.

Naruto's eyes flash like lightning and his lips peel back into a snarl. "Fuck you Uchiha. You think you're so fucking high and mighty but you are _nothing_. You deserve nothing. Brood in your graveyard of dead memories if you want, wrapped up in your teenage bullshit, but don't even _think_ you know anything about me anymore. You know _nothing_ about me. You never fucking did." Hissing, spitting words, growling with pent-up fury. It's a pulsing thing, alive and breathing smouldering embers into his blood.

"Finished?" Sasuke's words are unruffled. Unaffected. "Are you going to tell me why you were at the compound, trespassing, or not?" It infuriates Naruto more. How dare he be so composed? How dare he not retaliate with that tongue sharp as a knife?

Naruto is practically screaming _fight me! React to me! Hate me! Hurt me! Just do something!_ And Naruto knows he is doing this just as well as Sasuke. Sasuke doesn't even look at him; he ignores him like a child having a tantrum.

"Trespassing?" Naruto snorts – it is an ugly sound, much like his expression and the fury fuelling his words. Dark, ugly and writhing. Needy, yes. _React to me! Acknowledge me!_ "Give over, Uchiha. Your clan is _dead_. All that's left is you – pathetic, bitchy you, who refuses to let go of the past. They are _dead_ Uchiha. Nothing will bring them back. You need to get the fuck over yourself. (_Do something! Fight back!)_

"At least you knew your family; you have memories to hang onto. And if you weren't shoved so far up your own arse you would've realised you also had people willing to help you out, people willing to help you through the grief. You had everyone at your heels wanting to help, to at least try and soothe your pain. Yeah, I get that you lost your family and that must've hurt much, obviously it still does, but you need to man the fuck up and realise it was not the end of the fucking world. (_Hate me! Hurt me! Fight me, like I know you can!)_

"Perhaps its better your mother is dead so she can't see what a fucked up, twisted little murderer you have become. Itachi _was_ better than you, I can see that now." (_React!react!react! Fight Back! Insult me! _Validate_ me!)_

"Are you done?" Only now does Sasuke look at him. Those eyes, black abysses of nothingness. No emotion. No fury. No nothing.

It's as if he doesn't care for a word Naruto just said. He probably doesn't.

Naruto's chest is heaving, laboured with the force of his anger. Looking into those eyes, piercing as knives, deflates him. And he chuckles sourly, shaking his head in disgust. "Yeah, I guess I am."

The Uchiha looks away from him then and they continue the journey.

No more words are exchanged.

/\/\

They set up camp by a river. Naruto wrinkles his nose – had he been able to run he would be in Suna by now. His hands tremble a little with residual antagonism, an adrenaline that hasn't yet died. He watches his head with an absent interest, his back against the roughness of the tree that supports him.

He had volunteered first watch, needing time without the Uchiha there to clear his head. If he went o sleep Kyuubi would simply torment him over his own weaknesses. Naruto leans his head back, eyes skimming the inky black of the night sky.

He is ashamed of himself, of the desperation that lingers in his blood like an infection for Sasuke's acknowledgement. He is ashamed of the depths it would lower himself to in order to get a reaction – bringing up the deaths of Sasuke's mother and brother had been cruel and below the belt punches. It sickened him that he would even think to use those things against Sasuke no matter how angry the Uchiha made him.

Especially when Sasuke can so easily throw Naruto's past in his face and cause a crippling pain and didn't. And not only is there a disgust and guilt in Naruto's mind, but mangled up there like a victim of a savage beast, is a kind of awe. Had Sasuke brought up his past, thrown in his face the insults he endured near daily, the insults he still catches on the wind of a whisper, Naruto would snap. But Sasuke had kept his composure so perfectly – Naruto is jealous of that control.

His faults have always lain with his inability to hide his true feelings. If he could master that, then Naruto could surely make ANBU when he comes to the stage when he is ready to move the promotion ladder.

Naruto drags a hand down his face and sighs. He blinks, shaking his head free of the daze of deep thinking and shifts in his place. His arse is starting to go numb.

He stands, stretching his limbs with a soft groan before he shuffles over to the river to splash his face with the cool water and hope to wake himself up. He kneels on the back and scoops some water into his palms and over his face.

He flinches from the cold, rubbing his eyes free of water before peering down into the depths of the dark, rippling water. He then makes a noise in the back of his throat and scrambles away from the bank.

Staring right back at him, with an expression of apologetic determination and a beckoning hand, had been Mikoto Uchiha.

/\/\

_Does this make sense? I'm not too sure? Next part may have a POV flip with Sasuke. Not sure if it would work though, so it might not. Thank you all for reading. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Naruto, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Kishimoto. _

_**Pairings: **__NaruSasuNaru_

_**Notes: **__Sorry it's taken longer than I wanted. :/ No excuses really. Just life interfering as it has the horrible habit of doing. Just so you know, this story ISN'T abandoned; I am just revising and things for the exams. I slightly changed things, I know that Kushina was supposed to be dying after the extraction buuuuuuut, I changed that :D _

_Because I want to get this out ASAP, I will post it now and look through it for mistakes a typos at a later date. Enjoy :D_

_/\/\_

**Chapter Four:**

Naruto stares between his old mentor and the woman that has been haunting the back of his mind since two nights ago. They are staring at each other like predators and Naruto sits just a little way away from them, his mind sluggish in processing just what has happened.

It seemed just heartbeats before he had been leaning over the bank of the gently journeying river and the next he had slammed himself back into the grass, furiously scrubbing at his eyes as if he could scour the image of Mikoto from his memory.

She had risen from the water then, as if drawn from the reflection like smoke from a flame, risen impossibly from the depths that had not physically carried her with the grace and majesty of an ascending goddess, the picture of beauty and poise. And Kakashi – Naruto had balked and stuttered and gestured with little mind to the forgotten Sasuke apparently still slumbering undisturbed within the tent – had mooched out of the shadowed foliage, his eye lazily taking in the figure of Mikoto without any air of surprise.

Their greeting had been cordial and cool. Polite for the sake of politeness it seemed. Tension fluttered across the surface of their meeting like nervous butterflies and Naruto had swallowed, feeling forgotten and glad of it.

Silence ruled as it continues to do so. Thick, heavy, constant. Naruto itches to break it, to rave and rant and be his loud, obnoxious self and _demand_ answers – to bring some semblance of normalcy back to the situation because this is not average or normal and he is floundering helplessly out of his depth.

"Where is the other?" Mikoto asks finally, her voice as pleasant as wine. "I assume you did bring another…"

"Asleep," the man answers with a careless shrug. "She's not needed yet."

"Medically trained?"

"Yeah."

The Uchiha woman smiles. "You thought you'd get here too late?"

That eye glints in the darkness, a warning flash. "I couldn't be sure." Where is the idle man Naruto is familiar with? Who is this creature, so cold in his replies? Then that eye flicks over to Naruto's face, studying him with the same intensity Kakashi reads his books but with none of the perverse enjoyment. "You cannot use him."

Mikoto Uchiha keeps her smile pleasant, but ice laces the edges. Naruto shrinks back a bit, fearing the topic of their conversation. It is painfully obvious they are talking about him – after all Mikoto had said something about needing his help – but the iciness in how they regarded each other perturbed him.

What is going on?

"He can save my son." Blunt, trusting. _She truly believes I could do it._

Kakashi is shaking his head. "He is different from what you knew."

"Not different enough," Mikoto argues. Naruto's existence is seemingly forgotten as the two battles with their words. "Not different enough to refuse an honest request from a mother with no other options." Naruto swallows, glancing almost guiltily at Kakashi.

She has a point.

"But different enough to break beneath your request."

"He didn't before."

Kakashi's eye flashes. Anger, raw, blunt anger, shocks through his face before it is once again his lax façade Naruto is more familiar with. "Don't talk of things you don't know, Mikoto." The softness is dangerous.

"We decided he was the best." She advances on Kakashi, not threateningly, but to make a point – to stamp it home. Kakashi eyes her as one would a viper, and Naruto wonders if the real Uchiha and Kakashi were as volatile, as wary of each other. He never has bothered to ask about Kakashi's relationship to the Uchiha. Never cared to know. Now he wishes he had thought to inquire.

"And what about his choice?" Kakashi's voice, it is unrecognisable: so low, so dark, so turbulent. Naruto doesn't understand the words and the emotions behind them even less so. He does not recognise this man, and the change is almost frightening.

"I'm asking for just one more favour Kakashi, just a chance," her eyes are pleading, imploring; her voice a quiet quiver of one trying to hold back tears; her fingers twitch as if she about clasp at him and beg. Desperation – damnable, beautiful desperation. "Let him come; he is my only hope."

Kakashi stares at her, taking in her expression. He looks at least a little uncomfortable, his eyes darting away for a moment in what Naruto can only describe as some kind of shame or regret. He is wavering, even Naruto can tell that. His resolve in trying to keep Naruto out of whatever the hell is happening is weakening.

Is this perfect manipulation or genuine desperation on the part of the Uchiha? Too hard to tell, to distinguish.

This, Naruto thinks with a jolt, is how Sasuke should look. He should have his eyes aflame with sorrow and regret and anger, he should have that attractive vulnerability about him. No stone, no ice. _This is what he would look like had his parents survived…_

"Your world will kill him." The worlds are so quiet, whispered sorrow, that Naruto doesn't catch them. Mikoto tilts her head. "What you will show him, what you will offer him to enjoy for however long you need him will kill him. It will kill him because he can never have it. He never will have it.

"How can you taunt a boy who has already given so much with such things?" Those were not his words but were his sentiments. Iruka himself had uttered such a thing when Kakashi had revealed what he thought might happen within the next few days. "You can't gift a boy with that and then tear it away from him when you have what you want."

Naruto finds his voice then. He missed the last part of the conversation, but he has been staring at Mikoto – at her flexing fingers, her cracking face and those eyes – so tormented, so hopeless – welling with tears. So much like Sasuke. He couldn't save him. He failed Sasuke.

But, Naruto thinks, he might not understand even an ounce of this conversation but he understands the pain on her face, pain no one should be subjected to. She may be mad, this may be a dream, but it can't ever be said that Naruto would turn away from someone so obviously in pain.

"I'll help," he whispers, wide-eyed and nervous. He carefully ignores Kakashi's look, not wanting to see what he makes of his statement. "I–I want to help."

/\/\

She doesn't know what to think. Kakashi had shaken her awake earlier, with roughly movements that were uncharacteristic and a dark, glowering eyes that was even less so. She followed him without question, the haze of sleep lifting like mist in the morning, blinking to clear the bleariness of her sight.

And now...

And now.

Naruto is limp on the grass, clothes soaked through and his hair plastered to his face. That tan skin is hauntingly pale beneath the honey and he looks frighteningly still. Naruto is never still – he shifts restlessly, he plucks at the loose cotton of his clothes, rubs absently at his nose or neck, runs his hands through his hair. He doesn't sit still – he even sleeps fitfully, his limbs akimbo and twitching, eyes flickering beneath his eyelids to signify his dreams.

But not now. Now he lies quiet and pale on the grass, silent as the dead. Evidently he had some kind of stint in the water, but Kakashi is not being forthright with the circumstances.

A sneak glance to Sasuke shows... nothing. He is as blank as ever.

Sakura pauses to wonder just what is happening beneath that mask, but her glance is inevitably drawn back to the limp form of her teammate.

"I've done what I can to make sure he is okay, but I need you to check him more thoroughly, make sure there is no lasting damage." Kakashi the lazy mentor is gone, Sakura notes with worry. This is not the man they know and love. This is a stranger, an angry stranger she has witnessed only in battle, and even then not truly.

Sakura doesn't trust herself to speak. She can't. Not when Naruto, the ninja who seemed harder to fell than an oak is sprawled out in front of her. She just nods, gritting her teeth against the emotion threatening to overwhelm her before she kneels at the blonds' side, so many conflicting, screaming emotions firing through her veins like poison.

/\/\

"He should be fine," she utters, but there is a hint of doubt in her words. Kakashi only nods, expecting the answer. His eyes are once again lazy, but there is steel beneath them. Having finished her examination and changing Naruto into something warmer to ward off the chill, Kakashi and Sasuke had worked to ease the boy's disturbingly lifeless body into the tent. Throughout the entire evening Sasuke hadn't spoken, and even now, with the Kakashi and herself crowded outside of the tent, he says nothing.

Standing apart from them, apart from everyone and everything, he is untouchable. Unreachable. She doesn't know how he can do this, how he can look at Naruto's face and feel _nothing. _ Those two had always been something, there had always been something there between them – some link, some connection that bound them together, be it a chain or silk.

After everything they had been through and he can't even show concern for his fallen comrade, whether the incident had been the result of Naruto's own stupidity (something Sakura highly doubted) or not. They had always orbited around each other, their own worlds revolving stubbornly around the other and giving no one else a look in. Even when the three of them had been close, she had been left out. She didn't have the strange familiarity or even the intense rivalry. She had been an outsider to their own private bubble, watching from the outside like a lost child staring longingly, pathetically, through windows.

She was thrown scraps, sure, mere morsels of the intensity of the feeling they had for each other (whatever that may be)– but never delighted in the full attention of either. She resented it at first, loathed them both for their exclusion, but then Sasuke had gone AWOL and she had had to watch as Naruto shattered a little bit more each day – gaunt, ghostly, but relentless. She had to nurse him back to health when Sasuke's self-righteous fury had overwhelmed Naruto's good-intentions and care.

She no longer hated either. Not for the depth of their connection, because really, who would want to be trapped in that kind of relationship? All they ever did was hurt each other. All they ever did was break each other, blood and violence became their only communication and Sakura hadn't been shocked when Naruto had been dragged home, broken and bloody, that last time and just didn't have the strength to head back out.

Only a masochist would want to watch his own heart get ripped out of his chest over and over again by the same person. Only so many times a person could handle their heart getting broken without it shattering beyond any and all repair.

Naruto had reached that point all those years ago and his heart has yet to even show signs of healing.

/\/\

Suspension. Coolness. A glorious blackness. It had haunted his dreams that oblivion, in his darkest moments. Caressed him. Cradled him. Calmed him.

Beautiful. Serene. Silence.

He is falling. Sliding. Disappearing. He welcomes the comforting embrace of nothingness with a reassured feeling.

He would have sighed in peace if he had any breath left in his body.

/\/\

If Sakura didn't know better, she would've thought Naruto to be in a coma. His colour has just barely begun to seep back into his cheeks – the smallest hint of normalcy – but he still remains still moving, unnaturally so even within the deepest stages of sleep. Immobile like a statue. Sakura has still not been enlightened to whatever had occurred, but she can't help and think that maybe she doesn't want to know.

No. That isn't right. There is curiosity. But there is also fear a choking blanket of fear she is not brave enough face and doubts she ever will be.

/\/\

Thud. Thud. Thud.

What is that noise? What is that continuous pressure on his chest? Like a heartbeat, but more cruel, more harsh, more powerful.

Is that a snap?

Of what?

Is that pain? Distant, calling out to him like a siren's call.

Is that breath? Distant, a soft caress of what he'll miss.

/\/\

Is that a twitch? Sakura inches forward. Had his fingers just twitched? Is he waking up?

Tense, she sits in silence for moments but no more movement is offered to calm her fears. She slumps, chewing her lips as she settles back into position. Waiting. Forever waiting.

/\/\

He is vomiting, palms plastered flat to the grass as his stomach churns and gurgles, propelling water from his throat – burning, acidic. Someone is there, insistent but hesitant hands soothing his back as he heaves, and then moving to support him, to keep his suddenly exhausted body from his own mess as he collapses.

What is happening? His throat burns, scorched by the bitter bile that lined it. He coughs, a hacking thing that racks his limp body. There are fingers in his hair, soft whispered words he doesn't really catch – they float above him like the colours of a summers' day. He should recognise them, he knows he should.

The voice is a warm breeze. He wants it. _Keep talking..._ It comforts him. With each stroke of fingers across his forehead and hair, Naruto drifts further and further into sleep.

This doesn't feel like sinking.

/\/\

Groggy. His mind is a haze of confusion and mist when he finally drags his eyes open. He flinches back, hissing at the light streaming in through the curtains. Then he gasps. Pain shocks through his body at the violent twitch and he blinks.

He's hurt?

"Broken ribs," a voice from the side confirms. "From the CPR. Apparently, some people around here forget basic medical procedure in a panic." Is there a faint amusement in that voice? God, it's too familiar, less mocking, yes, but familiar. Flowing. Melodic. More feminine too, but his mind doesn't stop the parallels.

"Mikoto." His voice is a harsh coarse whisper. He blinks against the side, attempting to shift at a much slower rate, easing up the bed so that he can sit. Pain throbs through his chest. He licks his chapped lips, but his throat is too dry.

"Have some water, Naruto," Mikoto commands gently, placing a cool glass into his hands. The condensation drips down the side and Naruto follows a certain droplet before it falls to its doom on the bed sheet.

"Where am I?" He takes some water; the coolness soothes his throat brilliantly.

"I'll have time to explain later," Mikoto assures, dropping back into her seat. "But for now you must rest and gather up your strength. There are people dying to see you and…" she appears to hesitate. Naruto stares at her from drooping eyelids. "It will be a tiring experience, for you at least."

Naruto leans back against the covers. His eyes sliding, heavy – lead over sapphires. The darkness is already swirling around his head, swift on a predator's wing to swoop down and claim him. And as he his mind falls, his ears register only a single secret whisper.

"Forgive me."

/\/\

"Kakashi!" Sakura flees the tent, her body thrumming with relief and annoyance and fear and joy. She slams into their old teacher, grabbing his hand and dragging him back towards the tent. "He's waking up! He's waking up!"

She ducks back into the tent, dropping immediately to Naruto's side and clutching at his hand. Indeed, the boys' eyes are open, hazy with disorientation. His hand weakly squeezes hers. "Sakura…"

"Not yet," Kakashi says. "He is not yet with us. But soon."

Sakura's eyes are aflame as she glares at her teacher. "What do you mean? He just spoke to me!"

That eye is sympathetic as he regards the young woman who was once his student. "Look again Sakura. He has gone again." Sakura frowns at him before her gaze flicks down to the prone body of her friend. His hand is completely lax in her grip once more, his eyes hidden from her own.

She sighs and sits back, closing her eyes against the familiar burn of tears – her hope crashes with the force of a tsunami. Black waves thunder through her as she smoothes the blonds' hair, wishing him well with silent prayers.

Outside, Sasuke Uchiha doesn't even spare the tent a glance.

/\/\

Naruto is once again roused from his sleep. He blinks, the light no longer harsh on his eyes but his throat and lips till as chapped and dry as when he had first woken. He glances around the room he is in – his mind has yet to catch up he thinks, else the panic would be setting in.

Unless he is dreaming? Dreaming sounds plausible. Maybe the whole of last night was a dream, all that business with Mikoto and Kakashi and the lake. He'll probably awake soon to a silent Sasuke who will not even spare a glance to him.

Normalcy shall be restored and this… whatever this is will return to the depths of his own twisted mind.

He shifts in his bed, blue eyes gazing around the room his dream has taken as its own. It is not his own room back in his flat, nor the smoky cage of the Kyuubi. This is white, clean and expensive. Sparsely furnished, he notes, and yet all the furnishings scream value. These are not the possessions of a pauper. The sheets against his skin are rich cotton – soft and comfortable.

This not a room Naruto could create, so impersonal, so devoid of life and flair. Even his nightmares are splashed with colour; he could never create something so seemingly monochrome.

"We have little time, Naruto." His eye is drawn once again to the slim figure of Mikoto. "It is time for you to meet your family."

Naruto's blood freezes in his veins, hard as ice and twice as painful. His heart stutters and his face pales. "I–I don't have a family." His words are stoic on surface and broken beneath.

Mikoto gazes at the boy in the bed, a mixture of sorrow and something else colouring her face. "You do now," she whispers, almost regretfully, before stepping back towards the door and easing it open, giving Naruto no time to process this revelation or to even compose himself.

/\/\

He shatters the mirror. Blood beads on his fist. He watches numbly as they refuse to heal. His skin doesn't knit back together, smeared with blood but undamaged. The pain is a dull ache in his knuckles. Glass shifts in the wounds, small glass dust irritating.

He stares past his hands to the long slithers that lie at his feet and on the plain white surface of the dresser. He looks up at the glass, his face cut and distorted in the cracked face. Broken, azure eyes. They are the same – familiar to him, they had always gazed back from the depths of his reflection. For as long as he could remember eyes darkened with a painful past had haunted him.

He is almost glad for them now. His face – it is so familiar to him and yet also so strange, alien – a fleshy mask he wants to tear off. A lie of skin and blood.

A lie he hates.

There are no scars on these cheeks, no visible burden for his shoulders, so young and yet so old to bear. No voice in the back of his head, smoky and choking – baiting and advising in the same breath.

He is not Naruto here.

Here he is no one and someone. He is a lie, a living, breathing, walking fabrication but dead; somewhere it matters, he is dead. A doll. A mask. A sinner parading in a costume not his own. A puppeteer and this, this foul, perfect body he both adores and abhors is his marionette.

He wants to tear this flesh off of him. It's a poison to him, a cage with bars of bone.

And he wants out.

He doesn't belong here; masquerading as someone they had loved and unknowingly lost.

"_The Naruto of this world died,"_ Mikoto had told him in a soft voice and warranted no interruption or argument. Naruto had been too numb to answer. To think. To move.

"_Your consciousness controls this body for as long as you are needed." _Cold explanation, ruthless in its bluntness. 'For as long as you are needed' she said. Naruto doesn't want to be needed, not if this is what he has to face.

"_Naruto was drowned in the same lake we pulled you out of. As he died here and his spirit moved on, your body back home also drowned, leaving your mind free to wander across plains unknown to be here."_

"_Am I dead back home?" _Hollow words. They had tasted bitterly empty on his tongue. He was done. He felt dead.

"_No. Merely unconscious. If you had died this would never have worked." _She had continued heedless of Naruto's quiet numbness. _"Some people have a strong link between all their counterparts, and you and he are – were – one of those people. He planned for this; we planned for this. It unsettles our enemies. Makes them wary." _A mother-bear protecting her cubs. He would've found it beautiful if he didn't ache so damn much.

"_Your link, which has been strengthened to the highest point through the dreams the both of you had enabled a point of weakness – the trauma of the accident, the fear and acceptance and regret he must've felt was enough to weaken the barriers between worlds and pull you through. _

"_I need you to focus Naruto. As I have said many a time before, I am sorry for doing this to you. But my son is at risk. I will not let him fall prey to those who seek to harm him. Push aside the pain, move on through it, use it, lock it away, I don't care. Just help me, it is all I ask."_

Words are easy aren't they, easy to say. Commands easy to deliver. _Push aside the pain_. Impossible. The constricting of his chest tells him that.

They had been here. They had been here, people he should've known but never got the chance too. It had been wonderful and horrendous when they had barged into the room.

He is a ghost in a dead man's body and yet she had swept him up into her arms, embraced him and wept into his shoulder – genuinely afraid she had lost him. Colours – their colour had swamped the room, the brisk white of the room paling into some monochrome grey, the value and expensive of the furniture withered into worthless garbage in the presence of these golden people, burning so bright the sun cowered in its jealousy.

Their relief was painful. How could she not tell that the boy she held so close to her was not the boy she had bid farewell to whenever she had last seen him. Could she not see it, smell it? Could she not detect the stench of death that clung to him like a heavy shroud like _he_ could? Could she not see the decay that rotted away at his flesh, an infestation of Deaths' skeletal touch?

She had held him, this disgusting pitiful creature that hid within her lost son's skin. Naruto – was that who he was anymore? He thinks he might be losing his mind, perhaps the camels' back has finally broken – had wanted to shove her away, to scream and yell at her, to show her he was not the child she had left that morning.

He was an imposter of the worst kind; a parasite in this body like the Kyuubi had been to him back home.

But he hadn't. He couldn't. Not really. Not when his dream had been presented to him, sure, it more held the face of a nightmare but it was here.

Gods' Kushina Uzumaki had been beautiful. She had been so fucking beautiful it had hurt his heart to look at her. She was everything he had imagined and more – lithe, slim, feminine. She was a picture of beauty, with violet eyes that flashed with relief, grief and a fierce anger Naruto recognised. Her skin was different to his slightly darker shade from so many days spent out in the sun, fair enough to contest even the Uchiha matriarch.

Touching her was like touching an angel – Naruto still fears his retribution for touching something so obviously sanctified.

His mother. Only... she was not his. His Kushina, his mother, was gone, her spirit laid to rest. A sacrificial lamb for a demon rather than an angel from a God.

Minato had been there too. A hand, large, larger than Naruto's own had clapped his shoulder, firmed, assuring himself his son was still there. He had smiled, but there had been concern in his eyes – something deep and dark. Naruto had observed it before, in the fathers he had sometimes watched in his childhood out of curiosity.

He too, seemed out of reach, beyond Naruto's grubby, sacrilegious grasp. He had known, known for a few years now, who his father was. But the man who had stood in front of him, who had called him son, was even further from him than the face carved into rock at home.

This man was a warrior, a hero, someone Naruto had never given up striving to imitate. His loyalty to the village, to his family knew no bounds. He would sacrifice everything.

He was untouchable, they were untouchable. Naruto bitter mind hated it, figured the Naruto he impersonated was untouchable also, the picture of perfection – him and yet not him. Not as broken surely. Not as twisted or dark or lonely.

Not as false.

_She, _Mito Uzumaki, a whispered ghost of a sibling Naruto desired and yet feared meeting didn't show – Naruto was glad. Seeing her, seeing her, a beauty not given the right to live in his own world 9 a beauty he was sure she would be, with a mother like Kushina to take after) would've surely shattered him.

He knows he must face her soon, if this is indeed not a cruel nightmare he has yet to surface from, but he had been glad it had not been that moment.

He barely had the strength to face what had come next.

Naruto rubs down his eyes. It has been a tiring day. Exhaustion tugs at his body as it has never done before. But even as he creep back into bed and withdraws from the world into the warmth of the covers he cannot put the last encounter of the day out of his mind.

Not when he rocked his heart so, jolted it out of sync. Not when this hurt more than ever witnessing the people he could never have or see again.

_He had always been there, Naruto just hadn't noticed. How could he? He always had been good at melding into the shadows, at one with them, as if he belonged within the darkness just as Naruto had felt as home in the glare of the sun. _

_Sasuke. _

_He had approached with the grace of a cat, those dark eyes even darker than Naruto remembered. His face was not blank, not truly – not like he remembers from recent years. This was not that blank tablet, empty of everything. This was the mask he was acquainted with in their youth, a front to hide everything else._

_Naruto's heart had clenched. He was afraid. He was confused. They were alone in this room, he was alone with this incarnation of Sasuke – this Sasuke that reminded him of the lost boy he had accidently kissed, with whom he had struck up a rivalry, of the boy he had lost at the Valley of the End. The boy he feared he had grown to love. _

_The boy he thought he would never again see. _

_His was a strange innocence, not the innocence of the Sasuke he knows. That Sasuke's innocence, had been tattered and worn, gnawed at by the horrors he had witnessed and the hatred he had allowed to fester. His had been a broken innocence, a fluttering butterfly fighting a losing battle against Sasuke's inherent darkness. _

_But this boy, this boy was different. This innocence was perfect, a sweet thrumming music beneath his skin. No haunted memories in those black eyes, nothing other than pride for the clan that forced his emotions beneath his mask._

_This is the Sasuke that should've grown. This is the Sasuke that should've been allowed to thrive, to live, laugh and love, not that broken, twisted thing that had killed Naruto over and over. _

_And yet this boy was strange in a way Naruto could not quite put his finger on. More expressive yes, even he could tell that from this silence, from his eyes. But there was something else, something he had acknowledge but not registered._

_This boy, this Sasuke, stepped forward and Naruto flinched only a little at his movement. This Sasuke paused and frowned. _

"_Are you all right?" Melodic, perhaps a different lilt to his own Sasuke. Naruto stared up at him. It hurt somewhere, somewhere unimportant, somewhere he will dwell upon later. _

"_I'm fine," he croaked, voice cracking more under nerves and disbelief than anything else. _

_Sasuke's mask dropped then and Naruto's lungs stopped working. Relief was so clear and bright in his face, his eyes shining as Sasuke crawled over to him, perching on the bed, resting his head against Naruto's shoulder. _

"_You're such an idiot," Sasuke had whispered, his voice wavering only a little bit. Naruto doubted anyone else would've caught it. "Such a fucking idiot." He had shifted slightly, the length of his body pressed against Naruto's side, his face pressed into his neck as if inhaling. Words mumbled into his flesh that Naruto didn't catch. _

_Frozen with shock. Sasuke, _Sasuke_, was leaning into him, his hand tapping out an insecure pattern on Naruto's bandaged chest as if trying to make sure the blonde is still with him. Then his palm flattens against Naruto's heart. Just rests there. _

_Naruto stopped breathing. Unsure. Frightened. God he was frightened. _

_There had been a sigh and then Sasuke pressed hard on Naruto's cracked ribs, it was only a second or two long, but it was enough to make Naruto wince and gasp. Punishment, Naruto realised as Sasuke released him, stroking his fingers over the bandage in distracted apology. _

"_Never do something so damn stupid again, Naruto," he warned. "Never make me wor –." He shakes his head. "Just don't do it again idiot," he finished, eyes gleaming with a fire that scared Naruto as much as it intrigued. And with that Sasuke had left the room, but not before hesitating to throw one last look at the blond who was staring straight back at him. _

Naruto shakes his head almost desperately, ignoring the ache from his ribs, an ache he isn't used to. No, this is a dream, a sick, twisted dream created from his own childish desires. Nothing of substance. Nothing to hold on to. Nothing to obsess over.

Sasuke is lost to him, a phantom obsession he will never truly get over. Nothing more, nothing less.

/\/\

His awakening is not dramatic. There is no gasp for air to drench his lungs, no flinging of his body into an upright position. Just a simple, quiet awakening – the fluttering of eyelashes, the slow drag of thoughts as his brain fought to catch up.

A dream. A horrifying, beautiful dream.

"Naruto! You're awake!" The relief is evident in the tone. Naruto sits up, staring in the direction of the voice, not quite believing what he is seeing.

"Sakura?" He blinks, ensuring the pink haired kunoichi is really sitting in front of him, eyes worn with worry and hair lifeless. Then she isn't sitting anymore, she is barrelling into his arms and hitting his arm in the same motion.

She rambles threats and relief into his shoulder as the tent flap sweeps open to reveal Kakashi.

"It wasn't a dream." Naruto's statement is flat and Sakura draws away from him, frowning a little. She too fixes her gaze on Kakashi, who for once appears solemn. This odd Kakashi puts them both ill at ease.

"No."

Naruto had hope, but Kakashi word crushed it like a boots would an insect. He grits his teeth, turning his eyes away from his old mentor. His fist tightens of his knee and Sakura simply watches him with a puzzled air, half wanting to ask and half fearing what the answers would be.

Then Naruto turns to her with his bright smile and a sheepish shrug. "Sorry about that Sakura, making you worry and all. Why you and Kakashi here anyway? Me and Sasuke were cool, not about to kill each other."

"Sasuke and I," Sakura corrects with a small smile for her, still suspicious of respecting his obvious wish to not speak. Naruto would talk when he wanted to. She couldn't force him.

Naruto pulls a face. "You sound like Iruka." Her laugh is bright thing, brining a flicker of joy to his chest.

"Is that a good thing I wonder?" she asks mildly. Then she shrugs. "We're here to monitor you guys. Kakashi is here more for Sasuke though, to make sure he doesn't try to read the scrolls or anything."

Naruto shrugs. "Their medical scrolls, it wouldn't interest him."

"Yes, but on the way back, he might've looked at _those_ scrolls." She tucks some hair behind her ear before looking at him critically. "How are you? Feeling okay? Kakashi had to drag you out of the river, I don't think you were in there for too long, but there was some oxygen deprivation to the brain. I done what I could, but now your awake you'll probably have to suffer through a headache."

"Aw, Sakura..." he drags out her name in a whine. "You wouldn't let me suffer now would you?"

The girl laughs and picks herself up. "Yes I would, it's your punishment for worrying me."

"You're so mean to me."

"I could be meaner," she threatens mildly and Naruto puts up his hand in mock-surrender.

"Forgive me oh-great-and-wonderful healer."

"That's what I thought."

/\/\

Naruto is glad when they reach Suna. Sakura had tried, subtly of course, to wheedle information out of him and it irritated him a little. It was his secret, his little something tot el as and when he wished. He isn't sure what had brought about this sudden desire to keep this to himself, it is a surprisingly passionate want, but he adheres to it anyway.

Sakura would only think him crazy.

Kakashi had morphed back into his perverted lazy self, hands in his pockets, shoulders slouched and a lazy look in his visible eye. He spared a comment here or there, his voice drenched in a smile as those comments stained Naruto's face with a blush.

Sasuke had stayed the same, not that anyone was truly surprised. He remained silent, sweeping beside him, his presence undeniable and severe but silent. Easily ignored.

Naruto had taken to studying him through sideward glances. Thinking only of the differences between this Sasuke and that Sasuke drew him away from fixating over the bigger picture. The obsession with Sasuke was a familiar thing, if pitiful. He could handle that, even with the added aspect of the 'dream' Sasuke. He compared them constantly, searching this Sasuke's face when he could to try and find that missing difference, that thing his mind refused to pinpoint.

If Sasuke noticed the scrutiny, he never said a word.

"Welcome." Naruto drags his gaze from the dark haired Uchiha, his grin spreading over his face as he turns to face his old friend.

"Gaara!" He bounds over and envelopes the man in a hug, one that isn't returned, even though he can feel the Gaara's small smirk pressed to his neck fro but an instant. "It's been too long, man. I've missed you." There is an underlying need there, Naruto knows. But he doesn't choose to acknowledge it. He only studies his friends face.

He looks no different from when Naruto last saw him a few months ago. A bit more filled out maybe, but he is still as cool and collected as last time. His skin is still strangely pale for desert types, his eyes still that turbulent green, ringed in black – a permanent reminder of his old tenant.

Wait. Naruto frowns a little. Markers. Permanent marks to show he is the host of Shukaku. Like his whiskers.

Whiskers.

_Whiskers._

Naruto glances back at Sasuke, who is talking to Kakashi.

_Whiskers._

The Sasuke of that world possessed what the Naruto of that world never had.

That Sasuke had _whiskers._

That Sasuke was _jinchūriki _for the Kyuubi.

"Oh shit..."

_/\/\_

_These lyrics from Tracy Chapman's 'Bang Bang Bang' remind me so much of Sasuke, if you change the weapon of course aha. _

"_What you go and do  
You go and give the boy a gun  
Now there ain't no place to run to  
Ain't no place to run_

Now we'll all be at his mercy  
If he decides to hunt us down  
Cause there ain't no place to run to  
Ain't no place to run

If he wants the chances that you took from him  
And nothing that you own  
Then there'll be no place to run to  
There'll be no place to run."


End file.
